


The Fast and The Furyan

by Maygra



Category: Fast & Furious (Movies), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-11
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 55,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra
Relationships: Brian O'Conner/Richard B. Riddick
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	1. Part 1-11

The Fast and The Furyan  
by Maygra

an improbable crossover

Part 1

Wasn't he supposed to be King of the Universe or something? Keep what you kill. Right. He'd rather eat what he killed and travel light.

He'd just gone out for a stroll. It had been three months ago, but up until a couple of days ago, he'd still been strolling…through six systems and a couple of meteor sprays, but, just a walk.

After years on an ice planet, he felt the need to stretch his legs a little. Visit old friends, maybe stop by the homeworld and see if there was anything left. He couldn't even remember Furya very clearly. Not wide awake. When he slept though. When he slept, which was little enough, it was all he could see. What he thought he could see.

He stopped moving, listened. Nothing. He heard nothing. Where was the fucker anyway? They'd been cat and mousing for hours through Tesca's ruined gardens. What small amount of admiration he could scrape up for mercs of any kind was on the tip of his tongue for this one. Patient and stealthy, and masked right down to his scent.

And he'd come after Riddick in bright daylight. Clever fasz.

Without making a sound he crouched in the shadows of the shattered wall of Tesca's central monument. Waiting.

Idly he hoped Vaako had kept to his orders. It would seriously suck to get back and find out his psychopathic minions had wiped out another planet because they were bored.

It seemed like a good compromise -- not that Riddick had a whole lot of experience in compromising over anything -- but Vaako was such an eager dog, so ready to wield power like it was something worth having. Three times he'd tried to kill Riddick...

Not that he'd had a shit's chance in a sewer with Aereon and her elementals practically living in the walls. Just to be sure, she said. The elementals laid odds that Riddick wouldn't be able to hold the Necromongers back forever, Lord Marshal or not. The desire for the UnderVerse was too strong in them, buried into their cells, down to their DNA, pumped in them like a drug they'd never be free of -- and without the Lord Marshal's (number 6) glimpses and ability to draw power from that plane, it wasn't likely Riddick would last forever, even in the normal course of things. He wasn't dead -- half dead -- like his armies of those who had yielded. Riddick was mortal. He'd bought the universe time, that was all.

Let them believe what they wanted. He tapped his head lightly against the stone. Something had happened when he'd killed the Lord Marshal. Something other than becoming master of the universe -- he just hadn't figured it out yet. In his dreams, Shirah kept trying to explain it, just as she had tried to warn him of the Furyan legacy burning in his blood. She wasn't being a whole shitload more helpful this time. At least she hadn't tried to tell him it was his destiny to become some kind of frelling savior. God below and above, he hated clerics. He hated dead clerics even more.

He shifted, leaned around the edge of the broken stone and jerked back as another plasma bolt nearly fried the strap of his goggles.

Not that this asshole was grateful for him saving the universe at all.

He scuttled sideways and stopped, listened, heard the faintest crunch of dead leaves, the sharp scent of an energy discharge making his nostrils flare. Shit. He was close.

The actual main temple of the garden was ahead of him, but there was a lot of open ground between he and it. Still, the inside would be dark. Even if the merc had night sensors, darkness was Riddick's element. That and speed. Still, if he could close the distance a little...

He looked up, seeing the long stretches of colonnade still intact. They curved in a semi circle around the temple. There were gaps where columns had fallen but they were breachable. The risk would be getting up there without exposing himself.

He reached up, found a crack and lifted himself, searching for another. Foliage rustled and he went still for a second before hauling himself up further. Second plan: If the fucker showed up before he cleared the top, Riddick could end this little game fast.

There was no sound except a light breeze and he climbed.

Saved the universe, my ass, he thought, feeling his muscles strain. No, what he'd done was stop the Necromonger advance. As far as the rest of the universe was concerned -- the part that was still standing, anyway -- he was still an enemy. Maybe a bigger enemy, because Furyans apparently didn't exactly have a rep for playing well with others.

But an amnesty on the price on his head would have been a great good-will gesture. He thought so anyway. That was the deal, right? The one he'd made with Aereon -- that she hadn't made good on. Bitch.

His fingers spread out over the flat top of the column and he pulled himself up. A quick run and he'd be--

Less then a breath's warning and he almost evaded the butt end of the plasma rifle. As it was, it clipped him on the jaw instead of the side of the head. He slipped, heard the whine of a tangler web and twisted, dropping fast.

How the fuck had he gotten up there?

Not that it mattered. Riddick hit hard, but not hard enough to break anything, and rolled as another whine sounded -- to his left.

The ground exploded in front of him, covering him in dust and shattered rock and he backed up, in between two columns. The crowns would keep the merc from firing straight down. .

"Riddick," The voice sounded muffled. "My contract doesn't want you dead."

"Well, there's alive and there's alive," he called back, slipping between the shadows, spare as they were. "They could have invited me. Nicely."

"I am nice," the merc said and it sounded like he was laughing. He was also moving overhead. Pacing his prey.

Riddick kept moving, along the arch. His plan was still a good one --maybe it just got better and he pulled his lips back over his teeth, chuckling softly, and ran.

The bolts hitting around him were herding him, he realized. Fired from above, they were too accurately close to be misses and he weaved in and out of the columns, forcing the merc to fire wider and run faster. There were delays between blasts as his pursuer had to jump from one column crown to the next. Riddick gained advantage by inches.

But he only needed inches. The columns closest to the temple weren't whole, they were broken and fallen and his little merc shadow was going to have to come down at some point.

The whine of the tangler being shot out was the tell and he plastered himself to a column, heard a tangler wrap itself around the stone, hooks digging into the hard surface. One of them scored Riddick's arm, leaving a lance of fire in its electrified wake.

There was a sound of tearing cloth, a ripping, shredding sound and another whine. Another bolt kicked up gravel and he dove forward as a second tangler created a fence between two columns behind him.

Shit, how many did this guy have?

He could only go forward now -- which is what he was doing before -- but this merc, he wanted him to go forward, toward the temple…

Now why would that be?

He stopped, pulled his blades, curving his fingers around them. The tangler was still hot. "What's the price?"

"Now, that would be telling," the voice floated down, ahead of him. Idiot.

Wind moved dry leaves, made the wires of the tangler sing.

"Is this Aereon's bounty?"

Silence.

His fingers hovered over the anchor line of the tangler, still feeling the small charge embedded in the webbing. The blade was stone-steel, not a great conductor.

Before he could make the cut, he heard another tangler and dove to the ground and rolled. It clawed into the stone, stretching tight, creating a cage.

Fuck. He started climbing using his blades so he didn't have to hunt for hand holds.

Hands on his calves yanked him back downward and he kicked out and touched nothing. He twisted again when a fist slammed into his lower back.

It was like fighting a ghost, or the Lord Marshal or --

Son of a bitch. He drove a blade into the stone and waited for it, waited for the hands to reach again, only when they did, he let go, dropped, reached…

His fingers closed around warm flesh. Air elementals couldn't really disappear, they could only separate the particles of their corporeal bodies enough to let light through, or let minor currents lift them… -- or to slip through energy fields that occupy the subnet -- like tangler webs.

He'd never heard of an elemental moonlighting as a merc before.

Elemental or not, he was strong and fast but Riddick was both stronger and faster and as long as he didn't let go, the elemental couldn't vanish on him again. His opponent shimmered into view, wrapped in light fabric, trousers instead of the skirts and robes most elementals wore.

Not letting go of his arm, Riddick slashed at him with this blade, felt the impact of a boot on his belly, but still didn't let go. He only caught a glimpse of the face, of blue eyes like Tesca's skies, pale skin.

The merc pushed him back, trying to leverage him onto the web. Pressure would make it release its hold, seek a new target. Probably fry his brain.

Riddick twisted and gave ground, letting his back hit the column then bounced forward, boots to the ground, pushing, vaulting and taking his opponent with him.

He heard bone crack, a muffled grunt of pain as he slashed across where the man's throat should be before he hit the ground again.

There was blood, plenty of it, but not heart's blood. The smell of it was strong, but it was from the merc's forearm, not his throat. Wounded or not, the hand closing over Riddick's knife wrist was strong.

Both of them had their arms crossed in front of them and Riddick caught only a glimpse of the man's face, seeing resolve there but also…regret.

Riddick didn't know why and he flipped the blade, ready to cut again.

The man pushed back, hard, but Riddick felt the blade bite deep just as his back hit the second tangler web.

The current that whipped through him hurt like hell -- snapped his head back as it lanced up his spine. Then it was all around him as it detached and tightened around him, around them both, but already the elemental was starting to look transparent, until only his blood lingered in the air like a bright red mist.

Riddick twisted the blade once more just before the darkness he was hunting took him over anyway.

Part 2

When he regained his senses, it was still dark. He didn't move at first, testing the air, the sounds, the hardness below him. It wasn't ship air and the surface he was laying on was stone, not metal or plastic.

The tangler was gone but his ankles were cuffed and his hands were bound in front of him. He tested the cuffs: mag-locked and self adjusting. The harder he struggled the tighter they'd get. He'd seen men lose hands fighting the damn things -- and he needed his hands. He relaxed.

It was dark, but there was light filtering in so he could see fine. Heat, movement...his goggles were gone and the air was warm and damp smelling. Wet. He listened and heard a hard rain in the distance, hard rain...Tesca had torrential rains in season. Flooded regularly. He counted the days he'd been here. Could be. If this was the beginning of the rainy season, it could be...difficult.

He could smell blood too. His own and he twisted a little to find the cut on his arm had been bound.

It wasn't his blood he smelled though.

"Watch your eyes." The warning was only barely above a whisper and Riddick turned away; sensed rather than saw a brightness flare behind him. It settled, though, to a dim glow that wouldn't blind him. He looked back.

His Elemental wasn't moving too well. He was bent over as he set out supplies. The blood Riddick smelled was fresh. It would have been a mortal wound had Riddick pushed a little harder, dug his blade in a little deeper. As it was, his captor was losing blood steadily but slowly. Too slowly. The thought echoed in Riddick's brain because obviously he had strength enough to drag Riddick into the temple.

But not enough to drag him back to his ship, or Riddick's ship for that matter. He twisted a little to sit up, trying not to put any pressure on the cuffs so they'd stay loose. "You're bleeding."

"No, shit," the man said, glanced back at him. He had the wound in his gut bandaged but the cloth was soaked. "If you'd killed me while we were wrapped in the tangler, you'd be dead now."

"Remind me to thank you for pulling me out of it," Riddick said. This was actually better than he had hoped because the man was right. Now, he just had to wait for the merc to bleed to death, get the key to the cuffs and walk out of here. "You got a name?"

"Brian." The gaze that locked with Riddick's was cool, steady. The blue eyes still as bright even if the skin was a little pale. Curls brushed with gold framed a hard planed face and square jaw. He reminded Riddick of Aereon in a strange way, or maybe all air Elementals looked like that. Angels were what some people said of them. Maybe they had been at one time, deep in the history of mankind, Elementals visiting the old Earth Prime, leaving their mark.

None of those legends said anything about angels having the instincts of bookies though.

Riddick shifted over a little, using his thighs and ass to move himself so he could lean against the wall. He could still feel the residual effects of the tangler -- his skin felt burned, his insides a little raw. He watched Brian lay out the open case of a small med kit.

Like it would help. Given the amount of blood he was losing, he'd need a ship's auto surgeon to seal the damage; the portable unit was more weight to carry than it was worth.

There was blood on his right arm too, brown and dried, a crusty scab forming along the long cut in the meaty outer flesh. His left arm...

Broken. Oh. Poor guy. Riddick only had to look a little harder to see it, the break in the forearm, just above the wrist, the hand swelling. It was the heat of the damage he saw, the tissue swelling. Blood filling in the tissue to cushion the injury. "I could set that arm for you," he offered.

"Would you? That would be great. But...no. Thanks," Brian said, smiling, but not his eyes. His eyes weren't smiling at all. And if he was in pain -- and he had to be -- he wasn't showing it.

Brian didn't go for the bandages though, but for a syringe of morpheneline, injecting it directly into the veins near his wrist.

Then laid out a splint.

He got up unsteadily, wrapping a bit of dark cord around his wrist and pulling it tightly before he looked up over the walls.

Riddick followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of the stone sconce just seconds before Brian did. The strap was tied tightly around it. Brian then pulled a long slender belt knife free of it's sheath at his hip.

Riddick almost winced in sympathy. Crude but effective way of setting your own arm and Brian'd done it pretty well. When Riddick looked, the bones were lined up nearly perfectly. What cry of pain Brian made was quickly stifled as he crouched on the floor, hunched over, arm still extended. After a few minutes he lifted his head and cut the strap, cradling his arm for a moment before he wrapped the splint around it tightly, secured it in place and set the casing.

The bloodscent was stronger. The effort of it had torn open what healing had begun in his stomach

Shaking, Brian found a container of water in his supplies and drank, then looked at Riddick. He capped the bottle and slid it toward him. "It's laced," he said and laid down finally.

The cuffs didn't tighten much as Riddick leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. He opened it and sniffed. Laced all right, and he wrinkled his nose. He preferred getting his nutrition from food, rather than chemically enhanced liquids. Preferably fresh food, and he studied his captor as he drank. What wildlife had ever lived on Tesca had died out centuries ago, leaving only the insects and vegetation, but a man the size of Brian -- that could last him a good while.

Assuming he didn't just discorporate when he died.

Or maybe he would because even as Riddick watched he was becoming more transparent, breathing lightly, stretched out on the stone, but Riddick could see the wall beyond him. And he stayed that way, half there, half not, hardly registering on Riddick's sensitive eyes at all -- even the heat tracing was duller. But if he watched carefully, he could tell Brian was still breathing, steady, slow, deep. Half-tranced, or maybe half-tranked. He had taken an entire syringe of morph.

Riddick drank again, studying the supplies. Brian still had his plasma ply gun beside him and what weapons Riddick could see -- including a second pack of tangler eggs -- were stored on the far side of him. Closest to Riddick were what looked like food supplies and not much of that, rations and hydro mix although really, on Tesca, water wasn't likely to be a problem. There was a tac-com unit too, blinking dully.

Brian had set a perimeter? He was losing blood -- Riddick could see smears and small spots of it pretty much everywhere from the entrance to their little nest; on the floor, on the supplies -- yet he had dragged Riddick here and set up a camp. Basics, but secure.

All right. So Elementals weren't entirely human. Maybe only marginally so, less so than Furyans even. But the bloodscent smelled human. Moving closer, Riddick put out a finger and wiped it through one congealing spot of blood and smelled it, tasted it. Human enough.

He moved closer and Brian didn't do anything but waver in out of his vision and keep breathing.

He had to inch along like a worm, using his feet then resting, waiting for the ankle cuffs to loosen again. Fifteen minutes and he was five feet closer. All he needed was to get a hand on a weapon of any kind -- a bit of rope would do.

He was close enough to reach out and touch Brian when the bloodscent got sharper, so did the scent of sweat and maybe fear, pain, all of it making the air taste a little sour and sharp. The transparency faded and Brian reached for the plasma ply, lifting it as he rolled to his side to sit up a little. "Riddick...They want you alive, but I'm telling you, I'm in a shitty mood at the moment."

"Just checking to see if you are all right." Shit. Brian's instincts were starting to spook him. They were too close to his own.

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smile ghosting over his lips. "Right. I'm fine. Thanks so very," he said and sat up more, wincing, but he was moving better than any man who'd had his stomach ripped open deserved to.

The blood staining the bandage around his middle was drying, but there was still blood flowing, just not as much.

He was healing. Faster than Riddick could and he healed pretty damned fast. Actually, he didn't but he had a better pain threshold than most.

"So who does want me?" Riddick asked.

"Everybody wants you, Riddick. That's what they say."

Riddick smiled and relaxed. Brian hadn't told him to move back so, he stayed, got comfortable.

"Aw, come on. You got me, don't I deserve to know?"

"The Council," Brian said. "Believe it or not, they really do want you alive and want to talk to you...about what you plan to do. You and your...friends."

"Not my friends. Minions. They are my minions."

"Whatever."

"So they couldn't ask? Aereon couldn't ask?"

Brian made a face. "She did ask. But Lord Vaako didn't know where you were...."

"I'm surprised he admitted that."

"He said you went to UnderVerse," Brian said and reached for a second canister, cracking it open. "That didn't exactly reassure the Council of Allied Planets."

The UnderVerse, huh? Vaako wished. "I needed a vacation."

Brian drank, but only sips. Swallowing seemed difficult. Riddick sniffed. Fresh blood. He tensed up a little.

"You can't heal when you are like this, here. Solid," he observed.

"I can. Only slower," Brian admitted and Riddick snorted. He would never admit a weakness like that to an enemy. "Look...that's all they want. To make sure you have your -- minions -- under control. Negotiate..." Brian drew in a sharp breath, hunched over and Riddick moved.

He kept his hands loose, using knees and feet to launch himself and felt the cuffs tighten on his ankles. Brian tried to roll, but he didn't have the speed or the agility at the moment and once Riddick landed on him, he couldn't discorporate much.

One arm was all Riddick needed and he clenched his teeth as the cuffs tightened when he hooked an elbow under Brian's chin and pulled back. He relaxed his hands, even while Brian was clutching at his arm and trying to heave him off.

Fresh blood and fear, and Riddick buried his face in the sweaty curls as Brian struggled to breathe, bit him, then tried to pull free himself. Not so easy with a broken arm and a gut wound that was spilling blood more and more rapidly.

Brian stopped fighting abruptly, going limp but Riddick held on, not letting go until only the faintest of breaths escaped Brian's lips and they were looking a little blue.

Carefully Riddick rolled off him, waited for the restraints to ease back into normal position before starting a careful search for the key. It could be anywhere: on his clothing, in the supplies, but Riddick bet that he'd kept it close.

Rolling Brian onto his back required more waiting for the cuffs to adjust but Riddick kept his hands on the merc -- be just his luck he'd come around and disappear.

He thought about killing him, but it was entirely possible that Brian had left the key on his ship and only brought the cuffs. Of course if he bled to death, Riddick would be pretty well fucked.

The cuffs eased again and he rolled, carefully searching with his hands, testing the folds of cloth, pulling them back, checking the belt pouch and sheath and pockets. He found Brian's knife and cut a slit in his own pants to make a sheath for it.

Nothing. The bandages were soaked through again and Riddick tugged at them, reaching into the med kit to pull out another compression pad.

The wound was low, lower than Riddick had intended or Brian was taller than he'd first thought. It cut deep, low under his belly on the left side, shallowing out as it curved up toward his navel.

He pushed his shirt back, trying to work the pad in without triggering the cuffs and heard Brian take a deeper breath. He moved his head slightly and Riddick pressed the pad in place.

Then almost fell back in surprise -- but not quite, eyes narrowing at the faint imprint of a spread hand on Brian's upper chest where the cloth fell back.

A mark identical to the one that stained Riddick's chest.

Huh. Furyan and Elemental. Bet that made for some interesting family reunions.

Part 3

The only way to keep pressure on the wound, keep Brian from disappearing and make sure he could hold the blade to Brian's throat was to lean against him.

Not exactly comfortable for either of them. Brian came around slowly, unable to get a deep breath with nearly all of Riddick's weight on his chest. Just as the blue eyes started to flicker open Riddick pressed the tip of the blade into the little tangle of nerves and blood vessels just below Brian's ear.

"Key," was all he said.

Brian closed his eyes and Riddick pressed harder, a little trickle of blood running down the pale neck. "They'll be here in three days," Brian whispered.

Riddick cut deeper, watched pain ripple across Brian's face. "You don't have three days."

Brian blinked at him. "Underwear," he said.

"You are shitting me."

That little smile pissed Riddick off. It was also nice. Amused. Brian wasn't afraid of him and apparently not afraid of dying. And he was. Riddick could smell it like bad perfume.

"Be glad...I didn't...make that choice," Brian said. "I could have...swallowed it."

"I could make you die a lot faster if you want. Wouldn't hurt so much," Riddick offered, shifting his weight down. Rolling a little. Brian's blood had soaked into his shirt, his pants.

"Doesn't hurt much now..." Brian said and his eyes closed.

He didn't so much as flinch when Riddick cut into his trousers. The blade was sharp but the fabric was like cloth soaked in dark wine. His underwear was no more than thermals but there was a pouch there just on the inside of his thigh. The fabric gave easily and blood that had been soaking into the cloth now trickled along Brian's exposed crotch. Riddick slid the blade into the slit in his own pants again and carefully worked the key free of the cloth, catching it in his teeth.

It tasted of blood and sweat, Brian's musk. He had to sit up to work it, glancing at his captor.

The cuffs gave and Riddick took a deep breath. Prisoner now, he thought, as he freed his ankles. Not that a dying Elemental, Furyan -- whatever the fuck he was -- was of much use to him.

Then Brian started to fade. Riddick swore and reached for him, but his hand hovered. Then dropped. Maybe air Elementals did fade when they died. He wondered if water Elementals turned into sudden puddles of water.

The blood on Brian's belly and thighs turned to mist again, falling straight through, gathering with the rest on the stone beneath him. He hadn't completely vanished -- just ghost like and still. He might survive. He leaned over him, careful not to touch him, sniffing, tasting the air, eyes seeing cool spots and hotter ones even in the air. His heart was beating steadily but not so strong, his extremities were cooler looking, arms and legs, genitals all the heat -- all the life concentrated in his torso and head, along his spine. The hand print on his chest was dull red, pulsing with his heart and Riddick felt a response in his own, felt the heat of it, the throb of it.

Saw a faint echo of that brand on his palm. Well, that was new and different. The last time he'd felt this, he'd been his own personal nuclear reactor. Or the flesh and blood equivalent.

He looked at his palm, looked at the faint imprint on the nearly transparent body. He didn't touch, only let his hand hover there, just above Brian' skin.

The last time, it had hurt like hell but this wasn't painful. There was heat, yes, but it didn't burn, didn't sear his nerves, it only spread through him the closer his hand came to the matching mark.

Only Brian moved, like he could feel it, head moving, eyes half opened. Half there and his eyes were like sapphires, burning brighter than the mark on his chest. Bore into him as Shirah's had in his dreams, like the Purifier's had just before he walked into Crematoria's thermal front.

Brian was becoming more solid. The heat traces were fading, his heart working harder to try and move blood that was still flowing steadily from the wound in his gut. It had soaked into Riddick's pants at the knees.

He knew next to nothing of his own people, his own race. Remembered even less. Aereon knew more than he did. Furyans. An angry people she said, assassins and murderers and as warlike as the Necromongers in their own way.

The Necromongers had gone after the Furyans first and Riddick knew why -- at least partly. Only Furyan's had the fierceness to meet the Necromongers, maybe to have held them back had they even realized the threat that was coming.

A whole race wiped out -- most of them. They were scattered and few now. The Purifier had been the first Riddick remembered meeting. Brian was the second. If he was.

Brian was solid now, his breathing shallow, slowing. He'd be dead soon.

Maybe.

Riddick pressed his hand to the matching mark.

He didn't know what he expected, what he thought. Nothing at first, except the heat increased, the throb in his veins became more pronounced. Pointless, maybe, and he started to pull back.

And was suddenly dizzy, sick, felt the very air in his chest turn cold. His flesh pimpled from a chill and his muscles cramped. He pulled back only to find himself leaning forward, the only heat he could feel in his hand, his palm. His other hand itched and throbbed and he stared at it, seeing the flare of a thermal increase.

The coldness passed and Brian took a deeper breath.

A whisper in his ear, half a memory. He pressed his other palm to the wound in Brian's belly. If this was... if he could do this --

He might could have saved Kyra if he'd known. Was this a legacy of his race, or a gift -- curse from Shirah -- that he could heal this merc sent to hunt him down, but not the child -- the woman, the friend he'd found in Kyra? Not this. Not to find this too late.

He jerked back, pulled his hands free.

Brian arched up like he'd been electrocuted, caught in his own tangler web, gasping for air, then collapsed back down, panting harshly. The imprint on his chest flared brightly, pulsed then started to fade. But his eyes were open, staring at Riddick, bright, accusing.

Hatred, old and cold burned in those eyes. For Riddick, maybe. For something. What had happened? The Lord Marshal, the Necromongers had killed all the male children. They thought.

But Riddick had survived. And Brian could not be much younger and he had survived. But he wasn't dark like Riddick, was built differently, thought differently. Smelled different.

Vengeance wouldn't get him answers.

He leaned over Brian again and replaced his hands.

The heat of his body was sucked out faster, like Brian was drawing it into himself, or it was pouring out of Riddick. It left him cold, it left him shaking.

It made Brian scream.

He arched up again, flailed, gripped Riddick's arm like he could tear his hands away.

Heat flooded into Riddick in an instant, through his hands, into his skin, his blood, he squeezed his eyes shut and could still see -- see the outline of his arms, of Brian's body, the room beyond cold and dark and black.

It didn't burn though, not like before, not like on Crematoria. It flowed and moved and pooled and washed through him, bathing him from the inside. He could smell the sweat rising on his skin, feel the heat settle in his belly, in his groin, his dick flushing and filling, swelling. The sound of blood rushing filled his ears, the bitter metallic taste of it filled his mouth.

It filled his chest, dried out his mouth. He could feel the heat of it drying the blood that had soaked into his clothes. Brian was no longer trying to push him away was only holding on and screaming.

Again. Not as piercing but there was pain in his drawn out gasps, in the low wail of sound that was being torn from his throat.

And under Riddick's hand he could fee the flesh swell, seal, like he was cauterizing the wound with his touch alone.

Brian's fingernails dug into his skin, scoring it, blood welling only the scratches healed as fast as he made them.

He felt his palms cool first, saw the bright thermal flares behind his closed eyes start to fade, the images still feeling like they were burned into his retinas. Brian had curled up as much as he was able, still clutching Riddick's arms.

Carefully he opened his eyes, saw a more normal range of temperature flow through Brian's body. There were still hot spots: at his shoulder where the brand lay; in his belly but the blood was no longer flowing, had all but stopped; the wound near healed. Heat in his groin and penis which was as flushed with blood and hard as Riddick's own.

Normal sight returned, the rush in his ears faded as well until he could hear Brian breathing rapidly, harshly, each indrawn breath laced with pain and shock. Riddick pulled his hands back, tried to, but Brian gripped him harder, lifted his head, glared at him.

And then launched himself at Riddick with an inarticulate roar of rage and anger. They both went down on the stone, Brian using fists, his knees, trying to get a grip on Riddick's throat or gouge out his eyes.

Almost too late, Riddick remembered the blade and pulled it, felt the sharp edge slice across his thigh. He swiped at Brian and he backed off.

How ironic could it possibly be that Riddick had just saved his fucking life from one knife wound only to have to give him another? "I cut you this time, you're staying down," he snarled out.

"You should have thought of that before..." Brian hissed, and vanished.

Fuck. The thermal imprints were only traces, easily dissipated by the air currents in the room and Riddick crouched, listening.

He caught the whisper of sound, or sense, movement and whirled, Brian caught his arm but Riddick was ready, slamming him back into the wall, driving the air out of his lungs again. He might be pissed off for whatever reason, he might be fast, he might could turn into a whisp of air, but he was weaker than he had been and adrenaline would only carry him so far. Riddick pressed his arm to his throat again, ignored the hand clawing at his back and held Brian's other hand tight against the wall. His thumb pressed the hilt of the blade inward, hovering a fraction of inch from one bright blue eye.

Beneath him Brian's body was still hard, hot, chest heaving against Riddick's.

Riddick was hard too, rushed and flooded with energy from whatever had happened, from the fight, from the scent of arousal and blood and the feel of bare skin rubbing against the torn fabric of his trousers.

He nicked the corner of Brian's eye and pushed his thigh between Brian's legs, rubbing against his cock. Brian went still, but his fingers dug into Riddick's shoulder, clawing, and fresh blood flowed. He ignored it.

He leaned in, never moving the blade. "The Necromongers have a saying. You keep what you kill."

Brian drew a breath, defiant and flushed. Damnable God, he smelled delicious. "Thanks to you, I'm not dead," Brian snarled out. "Why didn't you kill me?"

"Do you want to die, Brian?" Riddick smiled, but it seemed a strange thing for someone who fought so hard and well to say. Someone like him -- weren't Furyans supposed to be the survivors? Not that it had kept the Purifier from killing himself. A final death he chose but still... "I can fix that. But, you almost were. Close enough. I think that makes you mine."

He flicked the blade upward and then jammed his knee into Brian's crotch. Air exploded out of Brian's lungs and his eyes rolled up as pain slammed through him. Riddick pulled back and twisted, driving his elbow into the side of Brian's head. He dropped like a stone.

Riddick drew in a deep breath studying the downed man. Pale skin showed at hips, along his back, the curve of one firm buttock. It's a wonder he hadn't tripped on his own tattered clothing.

He crouched over him, rolled him partially on his back, exposing his chest and tugged at the bandage at his waist, finally cutting through it.

The wound was mostly closed, but a thick red line of healing flesh ran from the crest of his hip to his navel. Lightly Riddick touched it, felt the heat below, saw the palm print flare dully and felt heat wash through him again, flow out of him...into the body below.

He knelt, straddling slim hips and rubbed at his crotch. The heat washing between them was more pleasant than the burn he'd felt before. If it felt this good just touching the other man...

Of course, he should already be getting his ass off planet. Except, if the Council really just wanted to talk to him...Oh yeah. He trusted that bunch.

He let his hands drift, his eyes rove. It had been too long since he'd had anyone, too many years. And before that. Whores...prison bitches of any ilk.

He tugged at the already torn clothing, exposing more flesh. Even unconscious, or maybe because Riddick had his hands on him, Brian was aroused, dick flushed and full, laying on his belly just to the left of the red scar. Riddick smiled. The wiry, curly hair surrounding his sex was the same color as his hair, dark with glints of gold.

He leaned in and inhaled slowly. Yeah, that was arousal, sex, but some of that flush and swelling could be from Brian's unfortunate impact with Riddick's knee. His thumb rubbed over the reddened tip, picked up a little fluid and he tasted it. Mostly semen, a little urine. Sharp, bitter...but no blood. Not even a trace.

He rubbed at his own swollen cock and then hunted around, found the cuffs and the key and reset them for standard restraint. He wasn't really ready to have Brian lose his hands over this. Riddick wasn't sure if his new-found talent for healing would go so far as to reattach severed hands.

He fit them around Brian's wrists and then wondered if it were possible for an air elemental to be restrained by mag-locks. The Lord Marshal had held Aereon with chains and bells, though. He'd just have to see.

Easier if he could secure Brian to something, but short of rigging something with a tangler, this would have to do. He could make it easier though and worked quickly to pull off, tear off, or cut of the rest of Brian's tattered robes and trousers.

Boots though...boots he had respect for and he pulled those off and found another blade --clever boy -- but also a bracelet. A tagged bracelet.

Hair thin wires brushed against Brian's ankle, the same technology that made the mag lock cuffs contract on resistance. Somewhere, probably at the base of Brian's spine or the base of his skull would be a microchip, wired into his spine.

Riddick's lip curled up in a snarl.

Marked and coded.

A slave bracelet.

Part 4

He sat back, studied his prisoner. Chances were, whoever owned him, would come looking for him. Maybe the council.

Brian stirred, drew a deeper breath and Riddick rolled him over to his belly, straddled his hips once more and stretched out over Brian's back, sliding the slim blade under his throat. He bent his head to lick up along one hard shoulder blade and felt his dick twitch. He wanted answers to a lot of things. Like who owned Brian and how he could be both Furyan and Elemental, and what the hell was really going on?

And maybe somewhere down the line -- if his ass was actually as tight as it looked. All in good time, and one good answer might lead to another.

Brian lifted his head, felt the blade and stopped, but looked at his hands, at the cuffs. "Nope," Riddick said softly, right into his ear. "You're still not dead. But you are still mine, Brian. I've got some questions."

"Fuck you," Brian said and let his forehead drop to the tone. "I've told you--"

"--and I may even believe you in part, about the council wanting to talk to me. You said three days. Why wait? Why not take me off world, take me back?"

"I don't have a ship...I came in on a glider."

A drop. That was odd. A single merc and no ship. "I have a ship."

"It's disabled. It was the first thing I did."

Riddick pressed his hips into Brian's ass, let him feel the hardness there, and scraped the edge of the blade along his throat. "Now, why would you do that?"

"So, you couldn't escape off world, even if you killed me. They will send others after you. They won't breach the atmosphere unless you're confined. Eventually, someone will take you...or you could just go. They only want to talk to you."

"And you believe that."

"I believe what I'm told to believe," Brian, said but there was no mistaking the bitterness in his tone.

"And why you -- not that you aren't good, but really. I do have a reputation. And you know, the whole Necromonger conquering thing," Riddick said lightly and slid a hand between his crotch and Brian's ass, nudged his legs a little farther apart. "Last crew...there were five or six..."

Brian gave a small snort of laughter that trailed to a hiss when Riddick's fingers pressed into his hole. Oh, yeah, he was tight. And hot still, like contact between them just kept whatever was flowing between them...flowing. "My primary job was to disable your ship, once we found you. If I could take you..." Brian shrugged just a little, stopping when the blade left a tiny cut on his throat.

"What? Nice big stack of credits...vacation home on Viera?"

"My freedom," Brian said. "But they really expected you to kill me. Me too. You are good. Faster than I expected."

"It's a gift," Riddick said and sat up, pulling the knife back. He let the blade tip drag along Brian's spine, saw and felt him shudder beneath him. At his lower back, he dug the tip in a little, drawing blood.

Brian dropped his head again, then turned it so his cheek was resting on the stone. The curve of his lashes, pale gold against tanned skin, hid his eyes.

Freedom or death. It was actually a choice Riddick understood pretty well, although for him, the freedom part was key. Maybe he was different than other Furyans. Or maybe not. The Purifier had been taken by the Necromongers. And Brian...slave to who?

"You're Furyan," Riddick said, dragging the knife back up. It left a thin red line on Brian's skin.

"Half. Half Elemental. I think you figured that out..."

"No Furyan would become a slave. We'd rather die." He didn't know how he knew it but he did.

"It's different when you're born to it," Brian said quietly. "And dying was kind of the plan, because they'll never let me go."

Riddick leaned over him, gripped his shoulders and pressed hard against him. Brian's mouth tightened but he didn't try to heave him off. "Who owns you?"

"According to you, you do," Brian said tightly.

Riddick let his teeth sink in into the fleshy part of Brian's shoulder, drawing blood. Brian tensed, bit his lip.

"Who holds your tag?" Riddick asked, licking the blood away. It was sweet and warm.

"Aereon."

Riddick bit him again and Brian yelped, jerked. "Try again. An Elemental holding another Elemental's slave tag?. Somehow Elementals having slaves at all seems a little....odd? Aren't they supposed to be civilized?"

"And neutral. Don't forget neutral," Brian said flatly.

"Oh yeah...good of all and all that bullshit." He pushed up a little, shifted his weight back, and reached beneath Brian, found his dick -- still hard -- and smiled. Brian sucked in air, tried to pull his arms in and push up. He could only get up to his forearms.

"I've told you what you wanted."

"So you have," Riddick said stroked him and watched the shudder roll up Brian's spine again. "Shouldn't you be rewarded?"

"Then kill me -- or let me go."

"And not do this...?" Riddick whispered, raking rough fingers along the heavy vein that rode the length of Brian's dick.

Brian heaved upward and rolled, swung his arms. Riddick ducked and twisted, let momentum carry Brian onto his back and grabbed at one arm, shoving Brian's bound hands back and down. His other hand dug painfully into Brian's balls, enough to make him cry out when he squeezed. He cut it off quickly though and Riddick watched him force himself to relax.

It wasn't fear. It wasn't even pain that made him go still. Riddick eased his grip, turned the squeeze into a caress. Watched him. His fingers slid lower, between Brian's legs, stroking the gap there, feeling the heat of him, sweat making his skin slick

His own dick swelled to crowd his pants. He let go of Brian's arm but watched him as he eased the placard front of his trousers open, pulled his cock free and let out a breath.

"It's easier if I'm on my belly," Brian said in a voice that sounded hollow and distant. His eyes were open but he wasn't looking at Riddick.

"Easier for who?" Riddick asked and slid two fingers into the tight hole -- tried. Too dry. He pulled them free and licked them, tasting sweat, and eased them back in. Brian's muscles clenched around him, but his dick wasn't as hard. "You're very calm for someone who's being raped."

Brian looked at him. The blue eyes were watery, maybe from pain. "You're pretty considerate for someone who's raping me," he said calmly.

Riddick threw back his head and laughed. He pulled his fingers free and leaned over Brian. "You...are one cocky bastard. I like that."

Brian glared at him. "Just do whatever you're going to," he said.

"Oh, I will...," Riddick said and leaned over him, brought his face close. "If you bite me, I'll make sure you choke on my blood -- but not to death," he whispered against Brian's lips.

Then pressed his mouth to Brian's.

Brian took a gulp of air in surprise, held his lips together for a long moment, then parted them. Cautiously, Riddick introduced his tongue into the warm mouth. No biting.

No eagerness either and Brian tensed up beneath him as he hadn't when Riddick was finger fucking him. He'd tensed when Riddick stroked his dick too. Interesting...

A good portion of him wanted to just do as Brian demanded; flip him over, drive himself deep, get his pleasure and leave it at that. Another part of him was just intrigued and curious and they had three fucking days because he didn't think Brian was lying to him. Yeah, maybe he could fix his ship, or maybe he could talk Brian into undoing whatever he'd done.

Or maybe he should just go and talk to the council, give them assurances and then do whatever the fuck he wanted anyway -- which appealed to him a lot. But big decisions should take time, right?

And Brian was still a mystery. Somebody had trained him as a merc. Raised him as a slave though -- one of his own people. There was something very wrong about that.

Brian's tongue was just barely daring to touch Riddick's. He was breathing a little harder, -- and something else was getting harder too Riddick smiled and reached between them, gathering his dick and Brian's in one hand.

Brian tore his mouth away, panting harshly and glared again. Riddick stopped, stared down at him, seeing the flush in his cheeks, along his chest. It wasn't just the heat that was still washing between their bodies. Not fear -- still not fear. Not really. Anger though...defiance.

Shame.

He lifted his chin, released their dicks and stretched before getting to his feet. He pulled what was left of his shirt off, skimmed off boots and torn trousers until he was as naked as Brian. Then he found the ankle cuffs. "Would these help?" he asked and Brian swallowed. "Maybe a gag? Would it help if I beat the shit out of you first?"

"Just...do it," Brian spat at him.

Riddick went down on one knee beside him, studying the defiant face, the tense body. He rubbed a hand over his scalp and felt dirt, and the ash of the blood that had dried on his skin. Brian's skin was covered in it, smudged by sweat, a darker smear across his belly where his dick had leaked even though it was softening now.

The look in his eyes, glaring and defiant, hateful and maybe a little despairing.

It had made Kyra stronger. "Who trained you?"

"I've had lots of teachers."

"Some you wanted more than others," Riddick said. It wasn't a question and Brian didn't take it as one. "Tell me one thing and I'll let you go."

Brian watched him suspiciously but nodded.

"Why would Aereon hold your slave tag?"

Brian twisted and sat up and Riddick let him. Brian held out his bound arms. "So she wouldn't have to acknowledge me as her son."

Part 5

It took Riddick a minute to find the key and release the cuffs. Brian only rubbed his wrists, then his arm where the break was -- had been. Clenched his fist. Then got to his feet.

Riddick was on his feet in an instant, knife obviously displayed as he gripped Brian's wrist. "I don't want you to disappear on me again."

"Water," was all Brian said and after a second Riddick nodded but didn't let go. He let Brian get a bottle and crack it. He drank deeply then passed it over.

Which meant Riddick had to either let go of Brian or drop the knife. Brian bent over again and dug carefully through a pack, came up with a length of steel mesh and wrapped it around his arm, using the closures. It encased his arm from shoulder to elbow. "It's too dense for me dissipate," he said. "I'll show you..." he said and even with Riddick holding onto his arm, he seemed to shimmer then fade. The mesh did not. It hung in the air like some bizarre mobile. Brian became more solid.

Riddick let him go and took the bottle, drank deeply. He was thirstier than he realized. He recapped the bottle and studied Brian. Some of his desire had left him but not all of it. Brian however: his dick was flaccid, the flush had faded from his skin. He watched Riddick warily.

"Her son," Riddick said and folded himself up to sit down, keeping himself between Brian and the weapons. The chamber was nearly silent, the hum of the light generator, the tick of the tac-com. Somewhere there was water dripping and beyond he could still hear rain.

"Not by choice," Brian said and dug carefully into a pack, pulling out a tunic. "May I?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Riddick said, eyeing him with a grin.

Brian dropped the tunic on the floor and sat on it. That was probably a good idea, the stone was chill. Riddick didn't ask him if there was another though.

"She was raped...by one of your people," Brian said evenly. "I was the result."

"Not exactly a bundle of joy," Riddick said.

"Not really, but she tells me better that way, because if it had been a Furyan woman who had been raped? She'd have probably ripped me out of her womb when I was big enough to grab. After she killed her rapist."

"Maybe Furyan women don't get raped," Riddick said and watched the flush creep over Brian's face again. "So Aereon kept you...trained up her own little hunting dog. How very...odds making of her. That she might need you. Why didn't she send you after me before?"

"She did. Half the mercs in five systems were looking for you, Riddick. It was only a matter of time...just like it is now."

"What you did to my ship -- it can be undone," Riddick said. "You could go with me."

Brian rubbed at his face. "It can't...I can't. I took out the condensers and smashed them and even if I could...I'm tagged, Riddick. They can find me anywhere. Three days. If you don't fight them, they'll treat you like an ambassador--"

"Oh, sure. That's whey they sent a well trained, well armed merc after me."

"They don't want you dead."

"But you came after me with a fully charged plasma rifle and enough tanglers to take down a herd of cattle."

"I'm a really good shot," Brian said coolly.

Riddick got up, stood over him. He probably was. Caught him neatly too -- it has been awhile since Riddick had met anyone that had done so well against him one on one. Maybe it helped that Brian had Furyan blood -- and Elemental blood.

"You were testing yourself. Testing me." Either that or hoping Riddick would get lucky and kill him. Death wish with a twist.

Brian shrugged. "A little. We had time to kill."

Riddick smiled, then dropped and spun, leg coming out, followed by his fist. Brian went sprawling, spit out blood, when Riddick landed on his back, got a grip on his hair and jerked his head back. "Yes, we do," he said.

There it was again, that rising heat, so fast it made his skin itch. He could feel it spreading across Brian's skin too, along his spine. The brand throbbed.

"Can you feel it, Brian? Like to like," he said.

Brian jerked his head back and got his palms under him, pushed up. Riddick scissored his legs when he twisted, pinned him again.

"What is it?" Brian snapped at him, snarled. "You did this... the dreams, the voices."

"What dreams, what voices, Brian?" Riddick demanded. He hadn't thought of that.

"A woman...her hand," Brian closed his eyes. "I don't know her. I didn't know you, but I do."

Shirah had been a busy girl apparently. If this thing had reached Brian, then if there were others, it probably reached them too.

"It's your legacy, Brian. From your father, in your blood. In my blood. Did Aereon tell you that? The Necromongers came and nearly wiped us out...just a few of us remain...three that I know of and one of them is dead. There may be more," Riddick said. "You want your freedom or do you want to die? I can give you one. The other you'll have to fight for."

The brand on Brian's chest flared brightly and his breath caught. "Fight you?"

Riddick shook his head. "You don't have to fight me for your freedom." He sat back and released Brian's arms, letting his fingers rub along his arms and over his chest. "And this doesn't have to be a fight either," he said, pressed his palm to the brand. Brian's eyes widened then shut and he rolled. Riddick let him, pulling his hand back. "Pick your battles, Brian. Choose them well. If you fight yourself, you'll always lose."

He got up, stood over Brian for a minute then picked up the plasma rifle and headed toward the entrance.

"Where are you going?"

Riddick paused and looked back. "To wash your blood off me," he said and headed into the darkness.

Not that it was dark, not totally but the sun had set. The rain sound grew louder, but the air was still humid and warm.

It hadn't been raining long enough to flood the valley where the temple sat but there was water everywhere, the downpour solid gray and unceasing. Everything had cooled down, the only faint traces of heat came from the huge trees beyond the colonnade and the air itself.

Riddick propped the gun up just outside the entrance and stepped into the rain.

Even the water felt warm, but it still cooled his skin and the throb of the brand became less as he let the water sluice over him. He turned his face up and opened his mouth, rinsing it out and spitting, then doing it again. It was tepid but at least it wasn't laced. It tasted clean.

He swallowed another mouthful and tensed, listening but there was nothing but the constant shush of the rain. Except there was ...after a second he relaxed, smiled and opened his mouth to catch another swallow of clean water. A glimmer caught his eye but he didn't turn his head, only lifted his hands to rub the water over his skull, along his body, rubbing off the grit and dirt and sweat.

A shimmer to his left and he turned, held out his hand. "I thought you weren't going to disappear."

Brian had taken the steel mesh off but he solidified, water flattening his hair, leaving streaks on his skin. He didn't apologize. "You can see me even when I do," he said.

"Out here. When it's cooler," Riddick admitted. But there was more. He'd been aware of Brian before he'd seen anything.

Brian eyed him then lifted his face pushed his hands through wet hair, washed the dirt off himself and touched the still livid scar on his belly. "You did...how did you?

"I have no idea," Riddick said stepping close. He pressed his palm over the line, the scar, if that's what it was. "I've never done it before. Believe me, if I could have, I would have before you," he said.

Brian didn't move. "The girl...Jack."

Kyra. Riddick nodded. "Jack..." he said

"I'm sorry...I don't know what it feels like to lose someone."

Neither did I, Riddick thought but he dropped his hand.

He turned away, wiped water from his face and headed back in.

Part 6

He felt the shift in air currents. It annoyed him. Maybe he should have left Brian cuffed. It was like having a ghost for a companion.

Brian brushed past him, a waft of warm air, then solidified in front of him. He was very nearly dry. Only his hair and the thatch of curls at his groin still held water. "Well, that's a neat trick," Riddick said, touching the dry warm skin. It grew damp again as water dripped from Brian's hair.

He doubted Brian could see very well but he could see Brian clearly, see the confusion on his face.

The brand throbbed as Brian moved closer, lifted a hand but seemed unsure where to put it. Riddick set the gun down. Threaded his fingers through Brian's and leaned in.

Their lips touched and it took some restraint for Riddick not to just take what he wanted. He could use the distraction.

Brian's mouth opened and Riddick took that as a yes. He caught his face, pushed his tongue in, coaxed Brian's tongue out into his mouth and sucked on it, tasted him. Nipped his lower lip hard enough for Brian to take a sharp breath.

He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands though.

Riddick did. He leveraged his weight, kept one hand on Brian's jaw to guide his mouth and slid the other down along his back. The smooth skin was warm, feverishly so. He pressed back and Brian resisted only for a second then backed up with him until cool, damp stone stole some of the fever away.

Brian's hands finally settled on his hips, fingers spread wide, Riddick half certain he'd have new brands on his skin. Laughing gods all, was this normal between two Furyan's? Heat yes, between two bodies, sexual hot spots, but this was an actual reaction he could see even through half closed eyes. Like touching each other was setting of some kind of chemical reaction. Not unpleasant -- no, unpleasant was not the word -- and Riddick was nearly as dry as Brian now. That was handy.

He pulled his mouth from Brian's and dropped his chin a little sniffing at his skin, up under his throat, his ears, let his tongue leave a wet, cooling trail along the shell of it. Brian shuddered and returned the gesture -- without the sniffing.

Inhaling deeply, the earthy, damp scent of the stone hit Riddick in contrast. Brian's skin smelled sharper, tangier, tasted clean and alive. The teeth marks Riddick had left before had been washed clean but they were still vivid, red, bruised and swollen around the edges. Riddick licked them, could barely taste the sharper metal of blood beneath the skin.

The throb of blood and heat washed through him again, his dick pulsing along with his heart. Brian's responded in kind, swelling and stretching.

But Brian tensed again when Riddick touched him there, stroked him. He pulled away and Riddick's eyes narrowed at the flush staining the tanned cheeks. A strong hand closed over his wrist, pulling his hand away -- only to return and close around Riddick's dick.

Okay, so Brian did know what to do with his hands, oh and, yeah...

Brian slid down his body until he was on his knees and let his mouth join his hand on Riddick's dick. His tongue stroked Riddick from root to crown, left him wet, but the heat on his skin dried him almost immediately, only to be cooled once more as Brian took him fully into his mouth. Riddick lurched forward, got his hands on the wall, braced himself, watching Brian -- half in pleasure and half to be sure the little shit didn't bite his balls off.

Didn't seem to be on the program though and Riddick found himself thrusting as more heat pooled in his groin, left his brain feeling a little chilly and neglected. He bent his arm, leaning his forehead against it and dropped his other hand to the thick gold curls, touching them, digging his fingers into them when the tip of Brian's tongue teased his slit, sucked softly, pink lips forming a perfect seal.

Riddick bit back a groan, bared his teeth and dug his fingers into Brian's hair more firmly, holding his head, pushing his dick past those soft, wet lips. The head of his dick raked along the roof of Brian's mouth, teeth barely scraping his skin, but it was only almost painful. Brian gripped his thigh and tilted his head back just slightly -- angled it perfectly and didn't fight him as Riddick fucked his mouth, his throat. He didn't choke either, although his fingers dug into the muscles of Riddick's thigh painfully.

Riddick was so close he didn't care much for whatever Brian might want or need at the moment. He was willing if not pliant, and some part of that niggled at Riddick's brain, bothered him, but not enough to keep him from pulling back. He caught a glimpse of Brian's dick, erect, flushed, leaking only Brian wasn't touching himself.

Survival instincts kept him from losing himself entirely when the rush came. There was no threat here that he could sense, but letting go of all of it was more difficult than he could have thought. His muscles tightened as he spilled come into Brian's mouth, down his throat. Brian swallowed around him, gripped him harder. Come stained his lips, dripped from his mouth and Riddick pulled back pumping the last of it onto Brian's skin, his face, his chest...leaving little liquid trails of heat on his flesh like wounds.

He leaned heavily against the stone, forcing himself to breathe evenly, while Brian wiped his mouth and face, twisted and got to his hands and knees, then up. He walked back out into the rain to lift his face, let the water cleanse his skin while Riddick was still pulling his shit together.

He put his back to the wall and slid down, letting the aftermath of orgasm flow back through him. It had taken the edge off. He glanced over and swore, scrambling to his feet. Brian was gone. He looked, stepping into the rain, studying the steps leading up to the temple, the area beyond, seeking heat traces or movement -- but the air and rain here was nearly blood temperature. Brian could be standing right in front of him and he wasn't sure he could tell.

Only...only he'd sensed him before -- without seeing him. Riddick couldn't think where he could have gone. Back inside maybe or back toward their ships. Maybe he'd been a little too trusting on that count, which wasn't like him.

"Son of a bitch," he said softly and picked up the gun. And wasn't that the truth if what Brian said was true? He pushed against that thought as he trotted back inside, carefully scanning the area of their camp. If Brian was here he was well and truly hiding. Riddick dug through one of the packs and found clothes. He preferred his own black but other than leggings, Brian seemed to have only paler tones, earth tones, sand, maybe easier to disguise when he went all windswept on him. The leggings were slightly too long, the tunic a fraction too tight, but he could move in it. He pulled his boots on and stared at Brian's for a long moment.

Three days. Riddick found himself relaxing fractionally. His ship was at least a day's hard hike from here and air Elemental or not, he doubted Brian intended to hike the distance with no clothes and no boots. Or maybe he could just float there and back again.

More digging revealed rations and Riddick tore one open, eating more because it was there than because he was hungry and assessed the supplies. Yeah, about supplies enough for two men and three days. So...not a lie, most likely.

There were two extra sets of charges for the plasma rifle and the charge already tucked in was about half gone. Riddick could admire that. Brian really had not wasted many shots at all. There two more syringes of morpheline in the med kit and the standard bandages and pressure gauges -- enough for minor injuries or burns. The supplies were all spread out now but it could all be packed in a single kit.

The tac-com was still blinking but Riddick didn't know if it was because Brian hadn't breached whatever perimeter he set or if he could breach it without triggering the alarm.

He rubbed at his crotch, still feeling a tingle there. Damn he was good. Better than any whore Riddick had ever paid for.

He squeezed himself and let the rifle muzzle drop.

And once he'd finally decided to kiss back, he'd been good, eager. Maybe not experienced. Not with that.

Fuck them all. Trained like a merc, mouth like a whore's. His chest ached and it wasn't from the brand. His skin had cooled and even that... he'd felt a lot of things for Kyra, but not that -- not the physical response in every cell and they hadn't had time to explore anything else. She'd grown up hard and beautiful and angry and defiant and ashamed.

She'd been slaved out too, but even so, she'd learned. She'd been fast and quick and smart and...

She could have been so much more and Riddick had never let himself think of her as anything but safe. She was supposed to be safe. He'd left her behind because of the price on his head.

Mostly. Mostly he'd left her behind because caring about anything or anyone was the quickest way to dead he knew -- and hadn't Kyra proved that with her last breath?

He found his goggles and looped them around his neck, then looped the strap of the rifle over his shoulder so the weapon hung down his back, easy to pull and aim. He headed back to the entrance.

The brand throbbed and Riddick stepped into the rain, looked down. Shimmer and fade, thermal traces flaring then misting away. Brian was climbing the steps, not hiding himself, more visible than not.

Because he was carrying something. He had to get a little closer for Riddick to realize it was his own pack. Not nearly as loaded as Brian's -- he traveled lighter -- but it was his.

Brian saw him, stopped for a moment and stared, then started climbing again.

When he reached the top, he dropped the pack at Riddick's feet. He was soaking wet again, face blank. He faded but Riddick tracked him, watched him become solid again inside the entrance -- dryer but his skin was still cooler. He didn't look back as he headed in.

Riddick sucked on his teeth and checked his pack.

The least Brian could have done was dry it too.

Everything was there, including his blades, his cloak, hand gun, food.

He glanced back, picked up his pack and went back to their camp.

Brian was drying his hair with the tunic he'd been sitting on. Another lay spread out, ready to be put on, looser, longer. No leggings or trousers though. The ones he'd been wearing were no more than bloodstained rags and Riddick had on his spares. Brian said nothing, only pulled on the bigger tunic. It hung to mid thigh, was loose but probably warm. He looked washed out and pale again but he met Riddick's gaze steadily before spreading a light blanket on the stone. "There's another," he said and used his damp tunic for a pillow when he lay down, covering himself.

"The ship's more comfortable."

"So tomorrow we'll go there," Brian said. "Although if you want to go...it's not like I can stop you."

Ooh, little prickly. The walk had not been a mood improver then. Riddick set the rifle aside and found the second thin blanket. Stood over Brian and nudged him with his boot. "Get up," he said.

Brian rolled over and looked at him then moved, confusion struck his face again when Riddick spread his blanket on the floor. It wasn't much for padding but it would provide a barrier to the chill. He hid his smile and stretched out, held out his hand.

Brian dropped his own blanket into it and Riddick rolled his eyes, held out his hand again. Brian took it reluctantly, warily, but let himself be pulled down. He stretched out on his side and Riddick spread the blanket over both of them. He spooned up against Brian's back, felt him tense but did no more than rest his arm across Brian's waist.

"I could keep watch."

"Sleep," Riddick said and licked across his throat -- just to fuck with him a little bit. Sniffed his hair. Tightened his grip and pulled Brian firmly against him.

A half hour later Brian had relaxed somewhat, but they were both still wide awake and the heat between them made the blanket almost too much.

Brian pushed it off and Riddick snatched it up to make a better pillow then replaced his hand, sliding it up under Brian's tunic. Which made Brian tense up again and amused Riddick. He propped himself up on one hand, continued his light touches. Brian's ass fit almost too perfectly against his groin -- not that he was complaining.

Firm muscle warmed under his touch and his dick once more showed more interest than sense. They didn't have a lot of clothes to spare though. Once more Riddick stripped down, Brian watching him. "Take it off...unless you want to have to wash it," he prompted while Brian watched him undress.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you might be walking back to the ship naked," Riddick said.

Brian gave that some thought then pulled his tunic off and set it aside, laid himself back down, facing away. Pliant and defiant. It made things interesting.

Riddick ignored the defiance for a moment letting himself touch and taste again, slowly. Savoring a good meal. Brian said nothing and didn't try to hide the effect those touches, the little caresses and nips, had on him. So this wasn't unfamiliar to him.

But anything Riddick did that might bring Brian pleasure, that he could respond too, made every muscle contract, his fists clench, even though he didn't try to stop Riddick at all.

Not denying him, but refusing to agree.

Riddick pulled him onto his back again and slid over him, straddling him. He lined up their hard dicks, wrapped his hands around them both, and stroked.

Brian's breath caught in his throat and his eyes closed. His fists clenched into the blankets but he didn't move, breathing shallow and fast.

Riddick wondered if it were pain, but he kept his hand gentle, his strokes steady and even, felt the flare of heat deep inside, saw and felt and answering flare in Brian's body, in his groin, the muscles of his stomach fluttering as Riddick brought them closer.

His own pleasure rose faster and he jacked them off harder. Brian squirmed, his dick leaking, flushed and swollen, hips lifting even with Riddick's weight pressing him down. Right there, right there... Riddick felt the surge in his loins, the pure pleasure of orgasm snapping through him, and leaned forward as he felt himself let go, come spilling over his hand, his own scent sharp and bitter, Brian writhed and dug his nails into Riddick's thighs. His chest was tight and hard, the pulse in his throat throbbed visibly in time to the bright flare of the brands they both wore.

Riddick spilled all over Brian's belly and chest and continued stroking, Brian's hard dick nearly burning his hand. He had to close his eyes briefly, the thermals still red and spreading.

Brian let out a cry and twisted his hips, rolling and pulling himself and Riddick over, curling up when Riddick let go and slipped off him. Brian's knees were drawn up tight to his stomach, his groin. He was still hard, chest heaving as he panted for air and didn't try to touch himself.

Didn't dare. Riddick could hardly make sense of what he saw. It wasn't just sexual heat, or Furyan blood...the spread of thermal imprints covered Brian's groin, his belly, his lower back; a dark, reddish pulse that looked like swirling mud. He blinked and stared, then lunged for the lamp, turning it off, plunging the chamber into darkness. He could see better that way.

He pushed Brian back onto his back, forced him to uncurl, eyes raking over him from head to toe, sorting out images, lines of flowing blood, the heat backing up like blood flow had been dammed, blocked, flooding swollen tissue. His eyes narrowed at the small spot of cooler differential, no bigger than the nail of his pinky finger. A chip, set under Brian's skin, in his groin, cool blue amid all the swirls of red. Then another set just behind his heart...

"What did they do?" Riddick growled out, leaning over Brian, seeing him only as thermals. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his face any more clearly. There were water streaks of yellow heat on his face. He pressed his thumb over the base of Brian's cock, like he could feel the small chip beneath the skin. Brian hissed and twisted. Maybe he could.

Riddick had to close his eyes to clear his vision, seeing Brian in faint shadows

"They want no more of your kind," he said. "Or of mine. Not free."

They could have castrated him but they hadn't. They wanted the bloodlines, control over the genetics, the structure, the form. They were Elementals -- they wanted their unnatural control to be natural, not built in a Petri dish. They had what they needed -- they could milk Brian like a cow, control him like a dog.

He eased off him, reached over and turned on the lamp again, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Brian was staring past him, quieter, breathing more easily, the erection he'd had -- the painful erection Riddick realized -- easing.

"I told you they'd never let me go."

Part 7

Furyan blood. To hold back the Necromongers when Riddick fell. Oh, he'd bet they wanted to negotiate...and when he was gone, given enough time, they'd have their own little army of leashed Furyans to keep the Necromongers in check.

"How many..."

"How many what?"

It was possible Brian didn't know, but he wouldn't meet Riddick's eyes.

"How many little bastards like you do they have?"

Brian blinked and looked confused. "None that I know of...I don't think I was planned, Riddick." There was no flush to his cheeks though, his pulse was steady. He didn't know. Or he was an amazingly good liar.

They hadn't been sure Riddick would succeed. This was new, perhaps. A plan hatched once Riddick had brought the Necromongers to heel.

"You let them do that to you?"

Brian's face hardened. "I don't remember being asked. They want no more bastards. Furyans. Aereon says the blood breeds true."

"I'll bet it does," Riddick said and pulled his clothes back on. "Get dressed. Packed up."

"Tonight?"

"Well since we have three days and the usual amusements seem to be off the table, I'd rather work on my ship."

Brian's face flushed but he didn't drop his gaze, only pulled his tunic toward him and pulled it on. "I told you, I smashed the condensers."

Which was the quickest and easiest way to disable a ship. "Did you smash the spares?"

"I looked for spares and didn't find them."

Riddick pulled up his pack and dug to the bottom. "That's because they were with me," he said, showing his teeth.

"If you run, they'll hunt you," Brian said but he was quickly and efficiently repacking the supplies.

"I'm not running. They want to talk to me, they can. But on my terns," Riddick said, shouldering his own pack. He took the rifle and packed the tangler eggs as well, but left the rest for Brian to carry. He'd humped it in here, he could hump it out.

In less time than Riddick would have thought, they were standing at the temple entrance, staring at darkness. The temperature had dropped and the rain was still sheeting.

"You want me to go with you? You could leave me."

Riddick had given it some thought but if what he suspected was correct, finding what Furyans remained might be harder than it seemed. Not that he knew what the fuck would do with them if he found them...but the whole thing stank worse than a cesspool.

"Oh, no. What would I tell your mother?" Riddick said and stepped into the rain.

He kept the pace steady, but not brutal, wanting to clear Tesca at first light and Brian kept up with him, even with the heavier pack and only a few steps behind. He stumbled a few times, unable to see as well in the darkness, but Riddick managed to lay a path that was considerately devoid of major obstacles. Even so, it wasn't easy going -- the ground was sodden and there were areas that had already flooded, indicating the rain had already been falling at higher altitudes, probably for days.

It was well after dawn when they reached Riddick's ship and Riddick was ready for dryer clothes if nothing else. He'd pushed Brian hard the last few kilometers, but he hadn't said a word, complained or slacked off. Riddick didn't know if that said more about his training or his bloodline.

He popped the canopy on the ship and powered her up, though, wanting warmth and to get a read on anyone that might be watching. As the sensors came back on line, he pulled out dry clothes, extras for Brian, only to find him once more dry, if smelling a little damp.

"Show off," Riddick said and thrust the clothes at him. "Come on, before you change, let's get the condensers replaced."

It took another couple of hours even though Brian proved himself to be a competent mechanic, but Riddick wasn't quite ready to leave him entirely to the task given that he'd already hacked the ship once. The underdeck crawl space put them uncomfortably close, the heat flaring between them and even Brian's ability to space his cells out didn't entirely stop him from sweating as profusely as Riddick was.

"Aren't you afraid of what they'll do to you for helping me?"

"As opposed to what you might do to me if I don't?" Brian asked.

"You don't even know what I'm going to do..."

Brian fit the last condenser into its slot and tested the connection with the tried and true method of licking his fingertip. "You're either going to Helion Prime or you're not. If you take me, you know they can find you, so you aren't trying to run from them. My only question is, what do you need me for? Done." He said and grabbed the hand hold to slide himself forward toward the hatch.

Riddick tested them as well, but turned the question over in his mind. The Betraying God alone knew what he'd find when he reached the Necropolis. Vaako had free reign, although he'd scanned traffic on the sub ether and hadn't heard anything that screamed bored Necromongers. Granted, he'd also left them with a ton of repairs and sent ships out to pull supplies from worlds that had already fallen. Half the fleet was still sitting just outside the Helion system in an uneasy truce.

And just for fun, he'd sent troop carriers to the three of the most aggravating slams. If the Necromongers wanted converts...well, some people might think that was a valid choice.

It kept them busy, kind of, but the draw of the UnderVerse -- he hadn't forgotten it. As far as Vaako knew they were gearing up for a little pilgrimage to the Threshold. His little foray was supposed to be in preparation for that.

Not that he thought Vaako or Dame Vaako believed him for a moment.

Once he'd headed out, he'd thought about continuing on. Let the Necromongers advance. The one thing Riddick had wanted to hold onto was gone. He commanded an army, an empire, that he neither wanted nor needed. Saving the universe hardly seemed worth the effort.

He pulled himself free of the under deck and climbed out, stopped as he saw Brian in the small cramped cabin. Now he was changing clothes. The line of red on his belly was still there, but it was bruised all around. Healed, healing, it didn't seem to be bothering him and then it was hidden as Brian pulled on one of Riddick's tunics. The darker clothing didn't seem to suit him as well, made him look too pale, too much like the air Elemental he also was. But as Brian changed shirts, Riddick could see the brand. Felt his own pulse in response.

Maybe saving the universe was only the first step in saving his own kind but he wasn't even sure he wanted to do that yet.

Brian made him uneasy. Made him uncomfortable because he seemed so familiar and yet wasn't at all.

"Strap in," he said and headed up toward the front, leaving Brian to lock the ship down.

They cleared the atmosphere only minutes later and Riddick set his course, locked it in and swiveled in his chair to study Brian. "It will take us a couple of days to reach target. Are they going to know you're gone?"

"Not unless they check and there was no reason for them to. As far as they know, I'm as trapped on Tesca as you were supposed to be."

Riddick nodded and walked back to the cabin, stripping off his tunic. "With me," he ordered,

Brian stared at him and then got up, preceded him.

Riddick pulled the cuffs Brian had used on him and carried them back. "I'd get comfortable," he warned, indicating the narrow bed.

"Won't take my word for it, huh?" Brian asked, but settled, laying on his good side. Riddick snaked a chain around the bulkhead then through the cuffs before closing then around Brian's wrists.

"I'll take your word you won't try to kick me to death -- if you want to give it," Riddick offered.

"I won't try to kick you to death," Brian said and Riddick could have sworn he was being laughed at. He grinned and stretched out. The bed was barely big enough for both of them. "Two hours and I'll let you loose," he said and closed his eyes.

Not that he couldn't still see if he chose, to some extent, but mostly he listened and smelled. After ten minutes he opened his eyes to find Brian asleep -- or convincingly faking it. His breathing was slow and shallow, his body temp had dropped a couple of degrees. He didn't look comfortable, but comfort wasn't actually a requisite for getting rest.

Riddick let himself ease into a light sleep more from habit than because he thought Brian might attack him, but the very fact that he thought he could trust the other man so far made him even more cautious.

He might have slept deeper had not he found the sanctuary of rest deciding he didn't have enough on his mind.

The dream was no different, the horizon he saw, no closer. Monuments to the dead on a barren and broken world. His people, his world. Only Shirah didn't appear to try and once more tell him things that made no sense.

There were thousands of headstones, monuments, obelisks -- markers for the dead. Cities lay in ruin beyond, the landscape looked like it had been scoured.

"Who do you think buried them?"

It wasn't Shirah. He looked and saw nothing, not even the wind.

"If everyone was killed, who buried the bodies?"

A whisper, a scent...a shimmer of light.

"Who saved you, Riddick?"

He couldn't remember. He had vague memories of the night they came. Of the Lord Marshal, but he'd been no more than an infant.

Why hadn't the Lord Marshall seen him?

Someone had hidden him...protected him. Him. Not the rest.

"If they were all dead, who buried the bodies?"

He reached out and grabbed the shifting air in front of him, felt his hands close around flesh, heat, the shimmer solidifying, becoming more real than a dream, muscles giving way under his fingers.

Brian kicked out, knees driving into Riddick's stomach with enough force to almost dislodge him.

Not a dream. Brian was struggling beneath him, twisting, thrashing as he tried to dislodge the hands strangling him. Riddick let him go suddenly and Brian dragged in a lungful of air, coughed, and sucked air again, watching Riddick warily, flinching back when Riddick leaned over and released the handcuffs.

He rubbed his throat, the imprints of Riddick's fingers livid, blood on his lip. "You were dreaming," he said, his voice hoarse.

"You had it too."

"No. I woke up when you decided to throttle me. You were asking...asking me..."who buried them?' Buried who?"

"Our people," Riddick said and sat up, didn't try to stop Brian when he eased off the bed and got water. "You said you had the dream -- saw Shirah. What else?"

Brian swallowed water and wiped at his mouth. "Graves. A ruined world. Fire..." he shook his head, cleared his throat and drank again.

"Graves."

"Thousands. Maybe millions."

"Who buried them?"

Brian stared at him. "If Furya was wiped out," Riddick said. "If the Necromongers killed all but those off world thirty years ago, who buried them?"

Brian eased back on the bed, sitting but keeping his distance, rubbing his throat as he thought. "Someone had to know. Furyans returning maybe?"

"If millions died...and you came back to that, would you dig individual graves?" Riddick asked.

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. But when I was dreaming...It was an air Elemental I was reaching for."

"Did you recognize him? Her?"

"No. I woke up when you kicked me in the gut."

"Oh, sorry about that," Brian said rolling his eyes.

"You did promise not to try to kick me to death." Riddick said.

"I wasn't actually trying to kick you to death," Brian said, rubbing his throat again. "Was Shirah in your dream?"

"No."

Brian chewed on his lip then winced, tested the tear he'd bitten into it with his tongue. It only made it bleed more. Riddick reached out and wiped the blood away and Brian went still when he brought it to his lips, tasted it. "You asked me before, what I needed you for."

Brian nodded cautiously.

"Before you, I'd met one other Furyan -- at least, if this mark is the proof. He was a Necromonger, called The Purifier. In charge of conversions. I don't think...he remembered what he was, before they converted him. But he was...maybe, close to my age. A little older."

"Furyans converted?" Brian said. "But...I thought the whole reason they wanted you was because Furyans couldn't be converted?"

"Well, then somebody's got bad intel," Riddick said. "Your dreams -- with Shirah....when did they start?"

"Three months or so ago. I never dreamed much before then." Brian sipped at his water. "So you need me for...?"

"Besides your charm and good looks?"

Brian smiled a little. "Yeah, besides that."

"Because this," Riddick said and pulled at the neck of his tunic to reveal the brand. "Means something. And you have it too," he said and pressed his palm to Brian's chest. Brian lifted his chin as the brand flared, eyes half closed. "And for whatever reason, Aereon, the Elementals, seem to think that keeping the Furyan bloodline alive, but contained, is important."

Brian's hand covered his cautiously, holding it to his chest. "They're almost as afraid of you as they are the Necromongers."

"Maybe but I think it's us. I think it's the Furyans, they fear. Something Aereon said. Did she tell you anything about us, our people?"

Brian released his hand. "Only that they were warriors. That they were as much conquerors as the Necromongers...murderers and assassins, she said. Warned me that you'd be true to your nature."

"I guess I'll have to ask her," Riddick said and got up. "Rest if you want. I won't cuff you unless I need sleep...or you piss me off."

"Riddick." Brian got to his feet. "I don't know how to prove to you...that I want to help if I can," he said slowly. "You've no reason to trust me.."

"It's not you I don't trust," Riddick said and realized it was true as far as it went. "It's those little leashes they've got hooked into you."

Brian quirked his lip. "They only fuck with my sex life and my...life. Not my head. There's no chip in my brain."

"You sure about that?" Riddick asked and got another smile. Brian took a breath and moved closer, lifting his hand to press it to Riddick's chest.

"As sure as I can be. And right now, they don't want me dead, necessarily, so this one..." he tapped his sternum. "Isn't much to worry about." His eyes met Riddick's and that flush started at his throat again.

Riddick smelled arousal, and this time fear -- but not the kind that made Brian sweat. He dropped a hand to his hip and Brian moved in closer. "And the other one?" he asked.

Brian moistened his lips but didn't back off. "Only affects what I can...give. Not what I can take..."

He titled his head a fraction and leaned down. Riddick didn't move, only let Brian's lips close over his, then tightened his grip on his hip, slid his hand over the firm ass and pulled Brian in tightly.

There it was, that flare of heat. "You said it would take a couple of days to get where we're going." Brian said against his ear.

"Better pain than boredom?" Riddick asked and snorted. "Brian...I'm not averse to taking what you're offering, but generally? When my bed partners start screaming, it's kind of a turn off. You know, unless they like it when I put them in agony -- or they deserve it. Do you fit into either of those categories?"

Brian's tongue teased the shell of his ear then licked up his scalp. "No. Not that I know of, but...there's pleasures that don't...have to end in me screaming. I didn't scream in the temple when I had you in my throat. And some pain...I can handle..." he said.

Riddick pulled back and looked at him. "How much?" he asked quietly.

"I'll let you know."

Part 8

"You shouldn't say things like that to me," Riddick said. "I might take it as a challenge."

Brian lifted a hand to spread his fingers along Riddick's throat, his thumb rubbing along his jaw. "Good. Because some pain makes other pain easier to bear," he said and brought his other hand up to pull Riddick's mouth to his own.

He was a quick learner; Riddick gave him that. The not quite so confident kisses of earlier got a little more aggressive, maybe even a little demanding and the scent of arousal spiked about as quickly as Brian's body temp did.

Teeth teased at Riddick's lower lip and Brian pressed him back, against the bulkhead, twisting his hips slightly so that his thigh, rather than his dick, rubbed along Riddick's crotch.

It worked for Riddick, but he reached up anyway and caught Brian's wrists, pulling his hands down, pressing them chest to chest. "You just said you didn't like being put in agony. Which is it?"

Brian bit his lower lip and for just a moment, looked a little hunted again -- or maybe that was haunted. "There's a difference between liking pain and being able to handle it. Let me guess...you like both?"

"Under the right circumstances," Riddick said with a grin, showing his teeth. "You know, just so we understand one another," he said and shoved Brian toward the bed.

Getting rid of clothing was more a diversion than an addition but no knives were involved, so at the very least, Riddick's wardrobe would last until they landed. The only thwarting Brian did at all was push Riddick's hand from his dick, pulling back slightly to regard him with calm -- if bright -- blue eyes and very firmly put Riddick's hands on his ass before returning to stroke Riddick's dick until it was hard and erect.

Then turned around and stretched out on the bed, on his belly.

Well, Brian was pretty good at stating the obvious and Riddick wasn't in the mood to turn down the invitation.

He'd been right, though. Brian's ass did fit into his groin pretty damn perfectly. Sweat slicked the skin of his back and Riddick tasted it and tried seeing without looking so hard. Not that taking care of the urge in his dick wasn't at the top of his lists to do at the moment, but he found himself comparing, trying to see if there were similarities between them besides Shirah's little love tap. Brian flinched only slightly as Riddick reopened the small bites on his shoulder, hissing softly when Riddick licked at the wounds. "Feel free to bite back," Riddick offered with a grin and was surprised when Brian did just that, twisting like a cat to take his mouth and bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"You shit!"

"You asked..." Brian said innocently then kissed him again, more gently, tongue easing the small pain. Blood was blood and Riddick was familiar enough with the taste of his own, although not usually by choice. "Is that a Furyan thing?" Brian asked, half on his back, one hand tracing patterns of some kind on Riddick's skull, over his shoulders. "You taste everything?"

"If it smells interesting enough," Riddick said and sniffed along Brian's collarbone, up under his neck. "You don't? Taste, smell?"

"Smell...not like you. Although in general," he said wryly, "I tend to stand upwind of most people. Air elementals have a pretty acute senses, but it's more -- movement, temperature. Air currents, patterns, cold fronts, moisture content--"

"Walking, talking meteorological stations," Riddick said and Brian grinned.

"Something like that. At least I thought it was an elemental thing." He stretched up, pressed his nose against the side of Riddick's throat and inhaled, then licked, then gnawed a little before moving his mouth down along his shoulder and bit -- not to draw blood though. Although given how fast Riddick's blood was rushing to all the places Brian's mouth was touching, that was probably a good thing. He might bleed to death if Brian decided to bite harder.

Or maybe Elementals had some way of just sucking a man's brains out through his skin, Riddick thought and not very coherently when Brian's mouth, teeth, and lips closed over a nipple: Biting, liking, sucking, all at once.

Riddick's dick throbbed and he caught Brian's head, lifting it to press their mouths together, curling around Brian as he straddled him, then let him go and pushed him down to his belly once more.

His fingers scored light lines across Brian's hip, across his back and up to his shoulders. Ghost scratches that faded quickly. He stretched out over Brian's back, dick pressing between Brian's legs and Brian sucked in air but didn't move away, curving an arm under his head and looking at Riddick over his shoulder as he spread his legs wide. He shifted, adjusted his dick so that it lay against his belly, pressed between skin and the bed. He was erect, hard, flushed and there was tension in his face, but not pain...not yet. Riddick wanted to touch, to test, or even ask. Instead he slid his fingers along the crease of Brian's ass and felt sweat slicked skin, the tight hole and Brian flexed his hips upward when Riddick pressed a finger inside.

Spit and leaking come was all Riddick used and still Brian was tight and dry, biting his lip, but pushing back, as Riddick pressed his dick in steadily. He pressed his hands up under Brian's hips and obligingly, Brian rolled up further up onto his knees.

If Brian were any tighter, Riddick thought he might get stuck -- not that it would be a bad thing the way his dick was happily throbbing and pulsing in the firm confines of warm flesh. The hum of blood in his veins appreciated the compression and friction. Fast and hard was what Riddick's dick wanted but his brain was locked on the fact that Brian was flexing his hips to meet him. The pleasure wasn't one sided. Either that or Brian was amazingly eager to please. Whore, he thought with some affection. It might be truer than he really wanted to know.

Consideration or eagerness aside, Riddick snapped his hips against the firm ass, trying to drive his dick deeper and faster and felt the blood rush through his gut. He dug his fingers into the pale hips and watched the sweat break on Brian's back. The brand on his chest burned.

Shirah was a voyeuristic little bitch apparently.

"Up," Riddick snarled into his ear, and Brian reached forward, leveraging himself against the bulkhead and caught Riddick's wrist as his hand slid down to cup Brian's balls.

"Riddick--" Brian warned.

"Trust me," Riddick said, slowing his thrusts, but he was close, Brian's ass looser and little more slick.

"You've got to be kidding," Brian gasped, but let Riddick grip his balls, hissing a breath out slowly, the jerked when Riddick slid his arm around his throat. Fingernails dug into Riddick's forearm.

Riddick bit him, sharply, and Brian grunted and pushed back. Blood dripped to Riddick's arm. Brian had bitten his lip again. His breath was harsh against Riddick's forearm and a shudder ran through Brian as he leaned forward, increasing the pressure on his throat. His heart beat faster and harder in his chest. "Don't fight me," Riddick growled in warning then pressed his lips to Brian's throat. "Relax."

Easier said than done when you were fighting for air, Riddick knew. He almost felt like he could follow Brian's thoughts as his struggles were willfully subdued and Riddick tightened his grip around Brian's throat. It didn't stop Brian's fingers from digging gouges in his arm.

Beneath Riddick's hand Brian's dick was hard, hot, but he was fighting for every breath and his muscles tightened. Riddick bit back a groan as the steadily building pressure in his groin suddenly hit the break point. He jabbed two fingers into the tender spot just below Brian's balls and choked off the cry that Brian tried to swallow.

Brian all but convulsed around him, squeezing his dick tightly, jerking hard, and trying to pull Riddick's hand away, a low breathy moan escaping him. Then he went limp, dead weight dragging them both down to the bed. Only Riddick twisting kept Brian's head from slamming into the bulkhead.

For long moments he lay there, still buried in Brian's body, only remembering to release his throat when his arm cramped. He'd relaxed enough though. Brian was breathing, if shallowly. Riddick pulled his dick free of the limp body, then pulled his hands free. His right was wet and he lifted it, tasted Brian's sharply bitter come on his fingers.

So, there were ways to bypass the leash. Might be more fun for Brian if he could be conscious when it happened, but, hey, any port in a storm, or whatever. For himself, the slight lethargy was welcome; muscles he'd been holding tightly for days finally releasing in the aftermath like he'd had a really good massage. Sex was a great stress reducer, he'd always found.

Eventually, he propped himself up, checked for bruising, blooding, and spread Brian's come-slicked thighs for signs of blood there, but neither saw nor smelled any. He blinked and reached over to dim the cabin lights, letting his eyes check out the results of his little gamble...not that he'd had much at risk.

There was still some pooling of the thick, dark reddish heat -- like blood that was cooling, centered in Brian's groin, but his dick was soft, normal looking even without the thermals. So, maybe there was a failsafe in there that overrode the command keeping Brian from ejaculating. Dying might be counter productive if they really did want the genetic code in Brian's semen for some reason. Threat of death and no sex -- they seemed about equally fucked to him. No wonder Brian was so willing to die.

Maybe he should just be satisfied with the sex. Brian seemed to have no objection -- or at least he'd offered for reasons of his own. Somehow Riddick was pretty sure Brian didn't think letting himself be fucked was going to, in any way, make Riddick trust him. He'd have to ask him -- later.

He leaned over the warm body and fished on the floor for the cuffs, reset them and bound Brian's wrists behind him. He let Brian have the bulk of the bed, stretching out beside him, Making room enough by throwing a leg and arm over his still unconscious companion. With any luck, Shirah had gotten her thrills and would leave him alone long enough to get some sleep.

He hadn't quite made it when Brian moved, but only slightly, then went still. Riddick stayed still as well, felt the minor movement when Brian tested his bonds, heard him swallow and try not to clear his throat. "I'm awake," he murmured.

Which was permission enough for Brian to cough and stretch a little. He didn't ask for it, but Riddick reached past him to get the water bottle, helped him sit up enough to drink, then drank some himself and set it aside. He let his hand skate down along Brian's belly, fondled him a little and Brian's breath caught -- then he closed his eyes, let his head fall back against Riddick's shoulder and the bulkhead.

"That a trick you learned from your minions?" Brian asked softly, but more because his voice sounded raw than for any need to be quiet.

"They can get a little rough with each other -- I guess it doesn't matter when you're already a quarter dead. Do you hurt?"

Brian pulled a knee up, rolled his neck, flexed his arms as far as he could. "I'll live..." he dropped his gaze to where Riddick was idly stoking the head of his penis -- still wet. "Gee I hoped I enjoyed that," he said.

"I did," Riddick said.

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" Brian said but he didn't sound angry or even bitter. If anything, his tone was a little wry. "Honestly, though, Riddick. Feel free to fuck me without the need to get me to come. It's sweet of you, really. But if I'm going to die, my preference would be to do it fast...suffocation isn't a turn on for me."

"No?" Riddick caught his jaw, and kissed him lightly. "It was for me." he grinned. "What did you expect...that I'd turn you down?"

"No. No, I didn't think that," Brian said and rocked forward to sit. "I don't get to make a lot of decisions in my life -- I take what I can get," he said and inched down before stretching out again and closing his eyes.

Once more Riddick waited until he was fairly certain Brian was asleep before leaning his head back and closing his eyes, reaching out to lay a hand on Brian's shoulder so he'd know if he moved.

Oddly enough, he didn't dream at all.

Part 9  
It was proximity alerts that woke him, woke them both, almost at the same instant and Riddick vaulted over Brian to check them. Three ships, mid range sub light hoppers who most likely had not yet sensed them.

Movement behind him jerked his head around slightly to see Brian standing in the hatch. "Hoppers. If they are yours, they are early."

"Not by much," Brian said. "We're nearly a day out..."

"We're--" Riddick stopped. Brian was staring at the chron. "Wow. Nice nap I took."

"You snore," Brian said, leaning on the frame, hands still bound. In the dimmer light of the cockpit, his skin looked like silver. "They'll be armed."

"You think I'm not?"

Brian looked at his feet.

"I am armed, aren't I?" Riddick asked, coming up to him.

"Plasma shockers. The uh...baby nukes are with the condensers. Hemis too."

Riddick had his hand around Brian's throat without thinking about it. Brian gave a gurgling choke then only drew short breaths through his nose. "You didn't think to tell me that before?"

It wasn't like he had breath to answer. Riddick let him go then swung with enough force to drive Brian to the deck. "Maybe I should load you into the launch...you won't make much of an explosion but you might gunk up their sensors if I'm close enough," he snarled.

"They still want you alive," Brian said, spitting blood.

"Then I'll just have to make them work for it," Riddick snapped then swore silently when the sensors tagged out -- they'd been made. "Hope you have a strong stomach."

He strapped in, leaving Brian on the deck.

His own ship was a Necromonger design, but one sub light was much like another. The Necromongers had concentrated their technological prowess on larger carriers, supra light jump ships and carriers. It took a larger ship to carry a supra light drive, smaller ones had to rely on sub light speeds and cryo.

Secure in his seat, he cut the gravs and smiled when he heard Brian swear as the fields dropped suddenly.

It wasn't that so much fancy flight as guts as Riddick kicked the drives to just below light speed. It made the engines whine like whelping bitches and he was redlining the drives almost immediately. He cut everything he didn't need save nav and sensor: environmentals, stabilizers...the cabin temperature dropped rapidly enough to make his balls ache and the whole ship shuddered.

He didn't want to just out run them, which he could do -- he wanted to lose them. "Did you fuck with the ion dusters?" he snapped back as he closed on the ships -- they were spreading out, clearing each other's line of fire. If they didn't want him dead, they'd use the plasmas which would hurt like hell, disable the ship if they hit it right, but wouldn't destroy it. That thought was only slightly reassuring.

"No," Brian said, through gritted teeth and made a retching sound. Without the gravs, every roll the ship made would be like being at sea. A turbulent sea. Riddick really didn't want to have to deal with floating vomit. He pulled a roll, streaking between the lead two ships and nudge the gravs back on line a fraction. Brian grunted when he hit the deck again.

He hadn't lied. The dusters spread out like a fan, skewing his trail. Just as he hit the upper edge of the sublight threshold, Riddick tossed every erg of power into the drives.

It wasn't light speed but it was close enough and he had to close his eyes and hold onto the contents of his own stomach as the threshold ripple washed through the ship, distorting everything. It was like being pulled in two directions at once, the lack of gravity suddenly reversing and dragging on everything -- sustained exposure would rip a man's body apart.

Riddick wasn't sure if it were him screaming or Brian.

It took all he had to kick the ship back into sublight, more than he thought he could summon to bring the sensors online. He tasted blood and wiped at his nose with a leaden hand.

They'd tacked a day onto their trip and Riddick pushed the environmentals back online and sucked in a breath when the gravity hit. Already cramps were forming in his limbs -- like half his body was catching back up to him.

Getting up hurt -- he felt like he'd been beaten by someone who knew what they were doing -- someone with a really hard stick. He could barely make himself reach for the medkit -- but if he didn't it would be worse...

The drugs were the same for post cryo. It wouldn't stop the pain, the aches in his muscles, but it would keep stressed cells from rupturing -- brain cells most especially. He pressed the syringe into his arm, watched the vein distort and swell. Squeezing his eyes shut as pure fire ran through his bloodstream. The drug was meant to be administered slowly to mitigate the effects but he didn't have the time to set up an IV.

It burned like a mother-fucker, made his eyes water and he had to pant through the burning sensation, watched his arm swell until the skin was stretched tight.

His arm was still swollen a few minutes later but the burning had eased. The next shot was a stimulant, which made the pain more pronounced but cleared his head.

He swallowed blood and swiveled in his chair to look at Brian.

It would be a slow way to die, which he kind of deserved, but Riddick forced himself to get up, pull a second dose. Brian's nose was bleeding as well, lip. He had an eggs sized lump on his temple, scrapes on his face and arms and bruises all over. The bruising at his stomach was nearly black now.

Out of sheer spite he pressed the needle into the thick vein in Brian's groin -- he only regretted he wasn't aware enough to feel it -- but he would. The second syringe followed the first and Riddick could see the drugs hit his system, the shock of them. Not aware enough to know what was happening, Brian's body convulsed in instinctual physical rejection as much as a reaction to the sudden reawakening of nerve endings, muscles, synapses...

Riddick pressed a hand harshly to Brian's mouth when his eyes and mouth opened, and leaned his weight on him: hand to chest, knee to groin. There was something very satisfying in watching Brian flop like a dying fish, to hear his muffled scream: Riddick made sure Brian saw the enjoyment in his eyes.

"You wanted me to trust you, Brian? Believe me when I say, that was not the way to make it happen," he said and reached down to grip the drug swollen genitals until Brian was almost sobbing against his hand. "I guess this isn't the kind of pain you can handle," he said and let him go.

But only long enough to find the ankle cuffs and open the hatch to the small hold.

Fully restrained, he dragged Brian to the hold and let him fall against the decking. "We're a day from the Basilica and then you get to make another choice. Convert, or fall forever. Personally, I'd take the fall."

Maybe it was time Riddick found out if Furyans really could resist conversion.

He set the forward signals before collapsing on his bed. The last thing he needed or wanted was the Necromonger defense channels deciding to blast him out of the skies...of course, If Vaako was there, it might happen anyway.

The dreams that followed him this time were more like nightmares. Shadowed faces surrounded him, pushed him, laughed at him when he struck out. A city rose around him cut from stone so white it made his eyes ache only to crumble and fall, shaking the earth. The stones rolled and broke apart and the thousands of headstones from Furya rose across a shattered landscape like petrified trees.

"You do their work for them," Shirah murmured in his ear but when he turned to face her, she shimmered and dissolved. "If we're all dead, who dug our graves?"

"What do you want from me?" he snarled at her.

"You have awakened, but now you must see," she said.

She smiled and lifted her hand, her palm flaring like it was aflame but instead of pressing it to his chest she covered his eyes.

Her touch blinded him, burned into him, seared nerves and skin. He woke up screaming and struck for the light but no illumination came, he blinked and saw nothing. The pain was gone, though his body still ached from the near light jump and the drugs.

But he was blind. Totally and completely blind.

Part 10

Panic was not a reaction Riddick knew very well and he didn't give into it now, but the thought of being unable to see did make his heart beat little faster and sucked out all the moisture in his mouth. He waited for a few minutes, in case it was temporary but the darkness remained; no ghostly grey images teased him and no concentrated efforts allowed him to see patterns of heat.

Riddick didn't have much sense of time, but it had been no more than a few hours, he thought. The swelling in his arm had gone down but his body still felt achy, joints protesting even small pressures and flexes.

The layout of his small cabin was familiar: clothes press, storage panel, the small sink and toilet, all of which he could touch or reach without getting off the bed. His foot touched cloth and his nose led him to the jumbled pile of clothing on the deck and he pulled them up, sorting his clothes from Brian's by smell.

Something small and metallic hit the deck and bounced once near his feet -- the cuff key. He pulled his clothes on without moving from one spot much, then crouched, hands spread out lightly, searching the metal decking until his fingers brushed the small control key.

Of course, Brian might not actually be in the mood to help him. As skilled as Riddick was, this ship would be coming in fairly hot and he wasn't sure he could actually work the controls blindfolded no matter how familiar he was with them. If someone wasn't at the controls, he'd either slam into the Basilica or they'd shoot him down.

Picking up Brian's clothes he made his way back to the hold.

The stench that hit him when the hatch cleared was strong and fresh: urine, feces, sweat, vomit. He heard no movement when he opened the door but it wasn't hard to find Brian even in this darkness. Brian didn't flinch when Riddick touched him, but his skin was hot, feverishly so, damp with sweat even though the hold was considerably cooler than the rest of the ship.

The pulse at his throat was fast but steady, but Brian didn't move even when Riddick released his ankles. He hesitated at releasing his hands but then found the slot and shut down the mag locks. Brian's arms fell limply to his sides.

Great. It could be anything: reaction to the drugs or Brian had taken more of a knocking around than Riddick had realized. Of course being nearly strangled, oh, a couple of time in the last day or so might have something to do with it.

His hands searched over Brian's body, feeling the swelling on his forehead. Concussion was possible. Hot all over, the heat on Brian's skin nevertheless increased near his belly, around the edges of the scar. The skin was swollen. Their little dance at the edge of near-light speed could have ruptured something.

If it had, moving him was probably a bad idea but there was shit-all Riddick could do for him here and if he had ruptured something, it was unlikely the med kit he'd loaded would offer much beyond what Brian's own kit had. Necromonger ships weren't fitted with med stations. They didn't take prisoners and for their own injuries, they took the concept of "in due time" very seriously.

He had to remember to keep oriented as he pulled Brian up, got him over his shoulder, then almost tripped over the abandoned cuffs. He was going to have to remember where he put shit down -- which usually wasn't a problem. He drew a deeper breath, refusing to admit how his lack of sight had shaken him.

He set Brian down on the bed -- more or less gently -- and wrinkled his nose at the smell. He was going to have to clean him up, and himself, but first things first. Another stimulant might be risky but he headed forward to get it, then stopped as he pulled open the launch cabinet, feeling for the stacked syringes. Cryos on the left, stims on the right? He couldn't remember. Pumping more lythenol into Brian would probably kill him -- the stimulant might too. He sniffed at both but could tell no difference -- not that he knew what either had smelled like before.

A small sound snapped his head up and he turned his head toward the cabin. Skin on cloth. He took a syringe in each hand and headed back. "Brian?" he said and carefully set the syringes on the bed, out of the way, felt his way to the man's neck. Was his pulse slower?

He pressed his hand to Brian's chest, the skin still hot, damp.

The throb in his own chest started immediately and he could feel the matching pulse beneath his hand. It had worked before.

It wasn't as spectacular as this time, although Riddick felt the chill creep over him, making already sore joints ache more pronouncedly. It wasn't until Brian took a deeper breath that the warmth started to return.

Riddick pulled his shirt off, found the lav and dampened the cloth, wasting precious water to bathe Brian's face, clear his skin of vomit as much as he could. He could probably find all the traces of it and dried blood by smell but better if he could get Brian on his feet and let him clean off under the sonics.

He kept himself from jumping when a hand closed over his wrist. He did stop for a moment but when Brian said nothing, did nothing, he started up again, getting the shirt wetter and wiping at Brian's throat then his chest. Did his skin feel cooler?

"Change of heart or are you bored again?"

It didn't sound like Brian at all. Too breathy, to raspy...no emotion coloring his tone.

"Both. How bad off are you?"

The hand fell away and Riddick sat back, listened to him move carefully. Was over alert to the changes in Brian's breathing, to the shifts of weight on the narrow bunk. Riddick reached behind him for the syringes. "I don't know which will do you more good," he said when Brian didn't speak.

"Neither. Can I move?"

Riddick shrugged, listened as Brian eased off the bed, went to the stow to get his own things, Riddick supposed. He heard a case lid pop and then Brian hissed softly before returning. "It's morpheline. I have one left," Brian said.

"Hit me," Riddick said. He should have thought of himself. Of course, Brian could be injecting him with anything.

It eased the aches almost immediately. "I'm gonna shower, purge the hold," Brian said.

"Purge the hold?"

"It stinks. You don't smell so great yourself. Sorry about that."

Riddick had expected at least some anger, some reaction -- not like all this, all he'd done, would be treated as Brian's due for whatever.

Another cabinet opened and Riddick tensed, felt the waft of air as Brian drew closer, he lifted his head. Again he didn't flinch when something was pressed to his hand. "You should eat something." Ration bar. Riddick reached out and caught Brian's arm, but clumsily.

"You never answered my question," he said. Brian was still warm.

"A couple of cracked ribs. It was the lythenol that made me sick. I don't do well in cryo or after."

"Not up to taking a swing?"

He heard the movement, felt the air move, braced himself for the blow he knew was coming and probably deserved. The touch on his jaw was gentle though, Brian's thumb rubbing over his cheek, across his lips, then up toward his eyes.

He knew when Brian stood directly in front of him, his other hand coming up to frame Riddick's skull.

It hurt worse than getting punched in the face would have. A feather light touch on his eyes made him close them. When he opened them again, the view was no better; still perfectly, unalterably black. Brian dropped one hand and let the other rub over Riddick's skull. "You could use a shave," was all he said.

"Brian..."

"Let me get cleaned up, and you can tell me where we're going. You're gonna have to trust me, Riddick. I know that's hard."

"I can't see."

There was silence for a moment. "I know."

"How--? dreams..."

"Dreams? No. Riddick, you've got the cabin lights up full. It's brighter in here than Helion Prime at noon. You aren't even blinking. I won't be long."

He wasn't. Riddick ate, found water and drank. He'd left Brian's clothes outside the hold, but he dug out a clean shirt for himself.

Brian clean was harder to track, but he made noise as he moved -- either deliberately or because he couldn't help it. His breath was still hitching at odd moments despite the pain killers which meant things weren't moving right. He heard the rumble when Brian purged the hold.

"Can you fly this thing?" he asked finally when Brian had returned. Cloth on skin as he dressed.

He sounded amused. "Yeah. I can fly it. The Basilica, right?"

"That was the plan," Riddick said. "I'm not sure if it still is."

"The Basilica, Helion Prime, or we can run," Brian said quietly. "I can promise you, Aereon is looking for us and she can find you, as long as I'm here. We might be able to evade her long enough for the Necromongers to realize you aren't coming back -- odds are, they'll pick up where they left off with a new Lord Marshal at the helm."

It would be Vaako. If Dame Vaako didn't kill him first.

"It's possible they could do something for your sight on Helion Prime," Brian said quietly. "Transplants, prosthetics...or maybe tell you what caused it."

"I know what caused it," Riddick growled.

Brian was waiting for a different answer.

"I need to contact the Basilica -- get them ready to move," Riddick said finally.

"Move to where?"

"Threshold. I'm supposed to make a pilgrimage. Secure my right to rule."

"You think it's real?"

"I think I need to find out," Riddick said, felt and heard Brian move past him to the cockpit. He followed him.

"So, am I keeping to course or changing it?"

Riddick weighed his options. He moved up behind Brian, where he occupied the pilot's seat and very carefully laid his hands on Brian's shoulders. The familiar thrum and heat flared between them and for a moment, just a moment, Riddick thought he could see the flare of the imprint on Brian's chest, maybe on his own. It hovered like a ghost image for a moment then faded before he could be sure it was real. "Furya," he said almost on a whisper. "Set a course for Furya and then we'll invite Aereon and Vaako to meet us."

Brian sucked in a breath. "Looking for neutral ground?"

"No. I'm looking for answers." He didn't release Brian's shoulders as he leaned forward to set course. There was no change in the pitch and roll of the ship but he heard the nav com's slightly metallic voice confirm course setting. It surprised him a little. He didn't use the voice mode normally, but Brian had switched it on. "Tired of my voice?"

Brian chuckled. "No. But both of us need sleep."

"The last time I slept I woke up blind."

Brian got up, moved close enough for Riddick to feel the heat of his body. "I'll dim the lights, then, in the hopes that this time, when you wake up, you can see," he said. "And just so you know, I flushed the cuffs with my shit in the hold. You want to restrain me again, you'll have to find another way," he said and brushed past him. Riddick gripped his arm.

"Why are you doing this?"

Brian was still then turned, not trying to pull away. His hand came up to cup Riddick's neck. His mouth pressed to Riddick's then a tongue slipped past his lips. Brian's lower lip was swollen, a metallic tang in his mouth but Riddick couldn't taste blood. It was on his breath. He was bleeding still, deep inside. Maybe not fatally but it was there. He returned the kiss but didn't move otherwise.

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you," Brian said quietly and let him go. "I've had dreams of my own. But whatever you decide, I'm with you. Believe it or not."

He left Riddick then, made his way back to the cabin.

Riddick reached out and found the pilot's seat, sat down in it. Tasting Brian on his tongue. The brand on his chest throbbed as did his head. Darkness still masked his vision but even in it, he could see Brian's face clearly. He closed his eyes like he could block out the image, but it remained. The whisper in his ear made him swallow. Not Brian's voice, not Shirah's...

"I'm always with you."

Kyra's voice, but it was Brian's face that continued to haunt him.

Part 11  
Thirty six hours to planet fall, the nav com informed him. Riddick stretched cautiously, testing muscles, feeling the aching subsiding. Or he was getting used to it. On another trip he might read, study languages -- practice cooking. Look up old friends or older enemies. There were considerably more of the latter than the former despite his penchant for killing enemies before they could kill him.

He was only barely able to hide his own reluctance to go aft from himself, but short of another alert, there was little to occupy him here. He got up quietly, listening as he headed back and heard nothing save Brian's slow inhalations and the constant thrum of the ship's engines.

"Why Tesca?" Brian's voice floated up from the bunk. Riddick found the end of it, sat on the edge, back to the bulkhead.

"No people," he said, leaning his head back. Then tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. "How did you find me anyway?"

Brian shifted, a foot brushing Riddick's thigh as he moved onto his back. "They've been monitoring ships leaving the fleet. Makes them nervous," Brian said. "Two man scout with one passenger. Well, that and Lord Vaako seemed to think it was information that didn't need to be kept secret."

"I'm surprised he didn't blast me out of the sky."

"So were we."

"We as in...the Council."

"More or less. They're more comfortable with cultural disputes than military strategy. What are they like, the Necromongers?"

Riddick pulled a leg up on the bed, let his hand fall to settle on Brian's ankle, the slave bracelet shifting under his finger tip. "Like most fanatics. Focused on a single purpose but otherwise...I haven't spent much time among the rank and file, but the upper echelons, they're probably like your council. There's a lot of infighting -- maneuvering for position."

"No, I mean individually."

Riddick furrowed his brow. "I couldn't tell you. I've spent more time with the commanders. It's an army, Brian. An army on the move. All of them looking for their deaths -- in due time," he said with a snort. "They say you keep what you kill but I spent an awful lot of time making sure I wasn't what they got to keep."

"What about the civilians?"

"There aren't any."

Brian was silent for a long time and Riddick felt his skin cool slightly. "I guess there's something to be said for knowing what you're doing and why," Brian said finally, quietly.

Riddick would have laughed at that if it hadn't been so true. "What would you be doing if you didn't have all this to deal with?" Brian asked. He sounded sleepy.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You're an interesting guy."

Riddick moved, nudged Brian's leg. "Move over," he said and stretched out, facing the open companionway. Brian rolled to his side behind him. "Looking for a contract maybe...or just staying low. I'd still be on UV6 if Aereon's dogs hadn't come looking for me."

"Now there's a vacation spot."

"It's got its charm," Riddick said. If freezing your ass off could be considered charm. He shut the thought away. Thinking of UV6 inevitably brought him back to Kyra and that was someplace, something, someone, he didn't want to dwell on. Not that he'd been successful in shutting her away in the places of his mind where all other unpleasant things resided.

Her ghost wouldn't leave him be though. "What about you? Where would you be?"

"Couldn't tell you. I don't get to pick where I'll be, where I go. What I do."

"Who your friends are?"

Brian chuckled. "Given my track record, that may be wise."

"But you've hunted before?" Riddick rolled back a little until his shoulder pressed to Brian's.

"I have."

"Killed."

"When necessary," Brian said evenly.

"You don't like it," Riddick said, feeling a sneer pull up the corner of his mouth.

"I don't like that it's necessary."

"Because Aereon says so."

Brian sighed. "If you like. I never thought about it much. You're an assassin, Riddick. Do you worry about it?"

"No, not for a second. But I get paid, Brian. I'm in it for the money, the rest -- the hunting and killing? Those are just bonus perks. You don't even have that."

Maybe if he poked Brian hard enough he'd get mad. Fighting with him would be better than thinking so much and maybe, maybe, Brian had enough advantage to actually get a few licks in. It would make the scales more even. "No wonder you keep trying to get yourself killed."

Behind him, Brian started shaking, like he was in pain, Riddick half turned then stopped when a sound escaped Brian. He was laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Just the irony," Brian said sucking in breath noisily. "I never really gave it much thought at all until a few months ago, Riddick. Slave, merc, bastard, whatever -- it's what I was. What I knew. Dying really wasn't part of the plan. That's pretty recent. Because of you -- because of whatever that Priestess of Furya did. Awakened us. Me. You. Knowing I was half Furyan meant nothing to me. I'm still not sure it does. But it changed me."

Riddick rolled over. "And still you want to go."

"I want to know," Brian said a little more fiercely.

"You said you had dreams of your own," Riddick said after a moment. It was better than talking about himself. Plus, niggled a little voice -- he wanted to know. Ally or enemy, better to know Brian than keep guessing.

"Just recently. I never dreamed much before. Not even as a kid. Not that I remember."

"And then you did."

"What happened, Riddick? Three months ago, what happened? When this started. When I started dreaming."

"How do you know it was me?"

Brian rose up behind him, put his hand on Riddick's shoulder and pushed him to his back, like he might see something on Riddick's face. Unfair since Riddick could see nothing. "You said it was Shirah. I've seen her. More often most recently...but before that, when this appeared," his hand pressed to the brand and the heat simmered, throbbed through Riddick's shirt. He felt like he could practically feel the ridges of Brian's fingertips. "I had dreams. But they weren't of her. They were of you. Your face, your presence."

"I woke up," Riddick said quietly. "I dreamed of her before...in cryo--"

"You don't dream in cryo."

"I did. Of her. Of Furya. Of the purge -- the genocide. It didn't mean anything until..."

Brian's hand kneaded his shoulder.

He wanted to shrug off the kindness. He wanted Brian to shut up, only Riddick had started it more or less. Harder to talk about Crematoria, about being certain that he would die, even knowing he wasn't the easiest man to kill. Harder to admit he hadn't saved himself, that a ghost had done it. Maybe a million ghosts. All of them were gone except Shirah. Shirah and Kyra. It figured that women would cause him such pain. One delivering him a legacy from a dead race, the other...

Not the first person that had died for him, not even the first woman.

He caught Brian's hand, pulled it away and sat up. "It was on Crematoria. Vaako had me. I couldn't move, couldn't think...she touched me. Told me it was the anger of an entire race. It felt like a baby nuke inside me. Bought me time, blasted....I should be dead. Would have been if not for her. She's not done with me yet."

"And those of us that remained, we all woke up."

"Seems to be. The Purifier did. Let me go. He was still one of them -- a Necromonger, but not. Had his own will back. Something."

Brian moved up behind him. "Riddick...I dreamed of you, not her."

"What did you see?"

"You. In front of an army. But not of Necromongers. Furyans, I guess. Men, women...those thousands. At your back. Maybe more Furyans survived than anyone thought."

Who buried the dead? "Aereon, told me that...we were warriors."

"Yes. Conquerors. The Furyans. In this part of the universe anyway, other systems were more afraid of the Furyans than any other enemy. It's how the Council came to be -- to be able to hold the Furyans back. My father --" Brian stopped and Riddick twisted.

"Your father escaped."

"Yes. And was captured."

"Told Aereon what had happened."

"I'd think so. They would have tried anyway, to get as much information as they could."

"The lesser of two evils is still evil," Riddick said. "I survived the purge," he said. "Thirty years...Furya isn't that far out."

"What?"

"If Furya was the first planet to fall -- one of the first. Why did it take the Necromongers thirty years to reach the Helion system? You've seen how they travel...days, weeks. Not years."

"And if the Furyans were so fierce, such conquerors, why would they all be on one planet?" Brian asked, tracking Riddick's thoughts. It was unnerving.

It made no sense. Riddick rubbed at his temples, blinked, thought he saw a glimmer of light and took a sharp breath.

"What is it?" Brian asked sounding concerned.

Riddick tried to see, until his head throbbed. The glimmer didn't return. "Nothing. Headache. Where were you?"

"When?"

"In your dream of me. Where were you?"

Brian laid back down. "I was dead."

"You dreamed you were dead."

"Pretty much. At least that's the impression I got. I could see -- you, the army, a battlefield...myself."

"That kind of sucks."

Brian chuckled. "I guess. I didn't seem to mind though."

"Trying to fulfill a prophesy? If it had been me, I'd have stayed as far away from me as I could."

"Well, I didn't have a lot of choices. Refusing would have gotten me dead or worse. Coming after you -- at least maybe this time, if I'm killed, I'll know what I'm dying for."

Riddick rolled over, pressing himself partially against Brian's chest and felt the other man's hand come to his shoulder, rub down his arm. "If I get a choice in this? I'd rather you didn't," he said, surprising himself.

"Rather kill me yourself?"

Brian was laughing at him again, or smiling. Riddick found an answering grin. "Maybe. But mostly..." he swallowed. "I never wanted anyone to die for me. Not you...not..."

Brian squeezed his arm. "Not Jack."

"No. Not Jack. Never her," he admitted. Wondered why he couldn't say the name she'd chosen for herself to Brian. It was Jack he'd left behind. Kyra who'd died for him. Fry...Imam even. The list didn't need to get any longer.

"There are worse things than dying, Riddick."

"Oh yeah? Name one."

"Living for no reason at all. Existing with no choices. You didn't keep busting out of slams because you were wrongly imprisoned."

Riddick might argue that but he shrugged. "I bore easily."

"I've noticed," Brian said. "So tell me...what would you die for?"

"Nothing. No one," Riddick said tensing up.

"Then why aren't you running?"

Riddick didn't have an answer for him. Not one for himself either. "Feel free to shut up any time," Riddick said flatly.

Brian did, which didn't actually stop the question from chasing itself around in Riddick's mind. Brian was right -- if there was nothing holding him here, nothing to fight for, there was no reason to stay. It was unlikely the Necromongers would hunt down one lone human.

Of course, if they stuck with their plan of purging the universe of all human life, then he might end up being the only human left -- and wouldn't that play hell with his social life? The Necros didn't really have rep for throwing fabulous parties.

Kyra really would have died for nothing. He wasn't even sure he would have gone after them, returned to the Basilica had she not been taken.

He crooked his arm and laid his head on it. Didn't move when Brian's arm curved around his waist, palm resting on his stomach. He could feel Brian's breath on the back of his neck, the heat of him.

Human contact. It wasn't that strange to him, just intermittent. A few days, a night, a few weeks. Weeks with Jack and Imam on the ship. Years on UV6. More years that he'd spent planet hopping, doing jobs here and there -- bringing death, getting paid. Laying low. Seeking out places like Tesca where there was quiet. And yet he felt comfortable enough in new Mecca.

Maybe Brian had asked the wrong question -- not why wasn't Riddick running now, but what had he been doing all these years if not running? "If you were free...and not dead," Riddick said. "What would you do?"

Brian moved, fingers tips curling on Riddick's belly. He'd been half asleep. "Start something. A business...see places to see them. Stake my claim on something that was mine and mine alone."

"Get laid a lot," Riddick said, half smiling. Brian didn't respond. Okay, so that was less than tactful.

Just when he thought Brian had drifted to sleep again. "Yes. With someone I chose." He pulled his hand back slightly, rested it on Riddick's hip.

"Someone in mind?" Riddick asked, feeling foolish. Maybe even angry. "You know the problem with giving a shit about anybody else is that eventually you will lose them," he said before Brian could answer. "It makes you weak."

"If you've got nothing to lose, then living isn't much of a challenge," Brian said. "Isn't that how the Necromongers live? How they die? Why they die so readily? What they want is at the end of it all...not here and not now. It's a promise they won't ever live to see."

Riddick rolled to his back, forcing Brian to almost lay on top of him. He wanted to see his face, to see what was in those blue eyes. Resignation or anger, or hope. He couldn't tell by his voice.

His hand came up, found Brian's face almost by accident, the heat of his skin, the roughness of his jaw. The softness of his hair.

His mouth still tasted slightly bitter, lip still swollen. Riddick could taste the dried blood on the tiny scab and eased it with his tongue.

He wondered what odds the Elementals would give on this. "So, you choose -- someone," he said gruffly. "But you keep looking for your death?"

"I've already seen it," Brian said and slid his hands up under Riddick's shirt, pushing the fabric up. "But if I had something to lose...I'd fight to keep it. And I fight nearly as well as I fuck," he said and Riddick couldn't keep the smile from curving his lips.

"So, maybe we should work on your fighting...for later," he said.

Brian gave up trying to get his shirt off. He had better luck with Riddick's pants.


	2. Parts 12 - Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes to follow

The Fast and The Furyan  
by Maygra

an improbable crossover

Part 12  
Maybe it had been Brian's plan to wear him out enough that sleep was the only reasonable response. It was a little strange (scary and sexy) to never know where Brian would touch him next. He was used to be able to see in the dark, to practically be able to see with his eyes closed.

It hadn't taken him too long to wonder why the hell he'd never let a previous bed mate blindfold him. In compensation, every other sense seemed to be working overtime: the sound of Brian's skin on his, every time he took that slight breath before his mouth covered Riddick's, the wet rasp of lips on his dick. His skin felt like an additional layer of sensitive cells had suddenly grown in -- the rub of Brian's hand along his thighs up to his hips made him harder faster than jacking off would have. The heat of Brian's skin increased as he got aroused -- Riddick's as well, then grew cooler suddenly and it took Riddick a few repetitions of that to realize Brian was pulling his vanishing act to ease his discomfort, let pooling blood cells get a little space so that he could stay in the game.

He didn't stop Riddick from touching him but it was the pattern of his movements and attentions that Riddick finally fell into -- distractions that Brian would lay on his skin, on his balls, pacing his arousal, so that when he finally mounted Riddick's dick, there was nothing hurried about it. Not until well after Riddick had shuddered through orgasm and release did Brian even get semi hard.

It was frustrating as hell to realize the biggest favor he could do for Brian, the only way he could really show even a vague appreciation, was not to try and return the attention.

The affection.

He could and did, once he sorted his brain cells back out from those that had migrated to his balls, convince Brian to roll to his belly and massaged his back and shoulders until Brian swore he'd melt through the decking.

And he did no more. Or not really. He tested the still healing wound at Brian's belly, the heat under his skin. He could still tasting that slight taint of blood on his breath. Which worried him although he couldn't say. Wouldn't say.

"I think it's from my throat," Brian said.

From screaming, which reassured Riddick but didn't actually make him feel better.

So he took a shower, which Brian told him he needed -- badly. Riddick didn't point out that he'd smelled worse. "Fastidious little freak of an air Elemental," Riddick had shot back and got a snicker.

They ate. Brian got up briefly to check their course, while Riddick tried to figure out exactly how he'd issue his invitation to both the council and to Vaako. In the end he only sent short burst messages, separately. Vaako's was acknowledged immediately. From Helion Prime they got nothing.

"I'll lay you odds, Aereon shows up first," Brian said when he was done.

It wasn't a bet Riddick was willing to take.

Brian slept and Riddick tried to as well, only to find it was too dark. But he could remain still, let Brian sleep, wonder if he'd dream.

It wasn't until he was dreaming again that he realized he'd fallen asleep -- and didn't that mess with his perceptions of reality? Because he'd have sworn he was awake, sitting in the nav chair in the cockpit watching Brian's hands dance over the controls.

Except he could see.

See himself, see Brian glance back at him, stare for long minutes, a frown marring his handsome face. He rubbed at his chest and Riddick felt it, though his own doppelganger didn't move, only breathed deeply, let his head fall forward. He was going to wake up with a hell of a neck ache.

Brian was checking stores, reserves, fuel levels, water recycling -- all the routine things a good pilot did. He checked the weapons systems and flushed and purged the residuals before getting up and easing past Riddick -- both of him -- to pull the weapons out of stores. He pulled the half spent cartridge out of the plasma ply and put in a new one and stored it again. Efficient and quick, he took care of all the things Riddick would have if he'd been alone. Riddick moved that much closer, reached out and laid a hand on Brian's shoulder: he could feel him, smell him. When he pressed his mouth to the back of Brian's neck he could taste him. Brian gave no sign that he knew Riddick was there at all

Riddick felt slightly disappointed.

"Being in two places at once requires strength and will." It was no more than a whisper but when Riddick turned it was the plains of Furya that he saw, not the ship.

Only these plains were devoid of the thousands of monuments. There were ruins, yes. Marks of high powered weapons on the buildings, fires...fields that were ravaged but already wild growth -- grains and fruit trees -- had sprung up.

"You are really not much help," he said to the air.

"A people died here, but not a race." Shirah was ahead of him, striding through the ruins. She made no sound, disturbed none of the weeds that were growing amid the crumbled stone. She stopped and Riddick moved up beside her.

There were skeletons here, charred crumbling to dust, but still recognizable. Bodies, large and small.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked.

She looked at him, dark eyes amused. "You had to kill him twice. Once here, once elsewhere. He only had to kill us once, but Necromongers don't stay dead. What they kill here, they keep."

She reached out to touch him again, but it was only a finger to his jaw and he forced himself not to pull back. "When you see, you will understand."

Her hand slipped down to grip his shoulder. He expected pain.

"Riddick." Brian's hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and still saw nothing. "Planet fall's in an hour. Where do you want to put down?"

"Cities. Look for the cities," he said and rubbed at his eyes.

Brian found several, but surface scans showed little life. "What are we looking for?"

"Hell if I know and it's not like I'll know it when I see it," Riddick said and settled back to wait for the ship to touch down.

Brian loaded up his own weapons but Riddick only took his blades. Put a gun in his hand and he'd probably end up shooting Brian or himself.

Dust made his nose itch. The scent of plant life -- growth and decay -- was sharp and almost annoying. Beneath his feet there was rock and dirt and he crouched, scooping up a handful to smell. Maybe it would be familiar.

"What do you see?" he asked Brian.

"Not much. A city -- settlement really. Looks like this was a farming community. The fields are overgrown. Buildings -- two stories, no higher. Weapons craters. Hemis probably or something like them."

Riddick laid his hand on Brian's shoulder and stepped close. Brian felt him this time. Riddick gave him a nudge and they started walking.

The ground became more uneven, the air moved differently; around shattered walls, eddied and flowed around stone. The air held more heat, reflected and trapped by rock and rubble.

Brian stopped, crouched, and Riddick went with him. Brian reached for something -- Riddick could feel the muscles pull under his tunic -- then found Riddick's hand and eased a rough partial sphere into his palm. A skull. Small. Probably a child's.

"There are no graves here," Brian said quietly and Riddick eased the small skull to the ground. "They may be elsewhere, but here at least...there really wasn't anyone left to bury the dead."

"Check the buildings," Riddick said, turning it over in his mind. He let Brian lead again -- not like he had a lot of choice.

"Duck," Brian cautioned him as they stepped past a threshold. Riddick did so, lifting his free hand to feel the half-collapsed lintel. Stone and wood, the wood nearly gone. Cooler beyond, the smell of rotting, damp wood was almost sweet.

"I don't know what I'm looking for, Riddick," Brian said after a few moments. "People lived here, died here, but this -- this is a settlement. Maybe thirty or forty families. The other ruins I scanned weren't much bigger. I need to do a more thorough scan -- maybe something larger, maybe the graveyard."

They could but Riddick suspected they wouldn't find what plagued their dreams.

"Did you ever meet your father?" he asked him.

Brian flinched slightly. Turned. "No. he was dead before I was old enough to ask what a father was."

"Yeah. Me too. Let's go."

"Do you want to do a scan?" Brian asked as he led the way out.

"No. We won't find them here. This isn't Furya."

"Excuse me? That nav com is --"

"It's called Furya, I know," Riddick said. "And maybe it should be. The last refuge, the last stand of our people...but we didn't start here."

Brian stopped and Riddick dropped his hand, lifted his face to the light breeze. It was familiar. It shouldn't be, couldn't be, even if he'd been born here. He'd have been an infant. He would remember none of this.

The was a distant rumble of thunder and Riddick lifted his head.

"Ships..." Brian said and Riddick heard the dull whine of the plasma rifle powering up. "Aereon."

"You win the bet."

"We didn't make one," Brian said.

"You win anyway. I'll pay up later."

He was standing close enough to feel Brian's body temp rise. Brian brushed his shoulder against Riddick's. Riddick grinned. "Let them come to us."

It didn't take long.

"How many?" Riddick murmured when he heard the ramps settle.

"A dozen. Aereon, Ithelias from Helion. He's assistant to the council president."

"Should I be worried that you're on a first name basis with members of the Allied Council?"

Brian squeezed his shoulder.

"You've chosen an odd place to negotiate, Riddick," Aereon's voice was lighter than the wind, harder than the rock beneath his feet. "Or should I call you Lord Marshal?"

"I think I'd like to hear you call me Lord Riddick," he called out, folding his arms across his chest. "Home turf, Aereon. Walls make me nervous."

"She's alone. The others are hanging back," Brian whispered to him.

"Brian..." she said. "I should know that your allegiance would be fickle. Blood will tell."

"I don't know, Aereon," Riddick said. "I'm guessing you weren't too happy with the chains my predecessor placed on you. Didn't make you loyal to him. Let's not draw this out. The council had an offer. Let's hear it."

"Only that the Necromongers will be allowed to take willing converts, then leave the system."

Riddick laughed. "In exchange for what? You have nothing to bargain with, Aereon. We could sneeze and wipe you out."

"Do not think we negotiate from a place of weakness," Aereon said and Riddick wished he could see her face.

He took two steps forward, laid a hand on Brian's arm to keep him in place. Scent and the faint chime of the crystals on Aereon's dress put him close to her. "Try again, Aereon. Offer me something."

"What would you have, Riddick? Riches? Shall we deed some small planet to you?"

"I can take that if I want it."

"What does the Lord of the Necromongers want?" she asked, sounding haughty enough for Riddick to want to slap her. "I can't bring back the dead," she said more quietly. "Though rumors have it your new found faith can do that -- perhaps if you take her body to the threshold and cast it across."

He didn't need to see her to have a blade at her throat again. He heard weapons come up, ahead of him, and another behind him. Brian was covering her guard, covering his back. "This is a bad habit for us, Aereon."

"Would you have my son?"

"I've already got him," he said with a sneer.

"I can take him away," she murmured. She probably would, could.

"Threats from an Elemental -- and what odds do you give that they would actually accomplish anything?" he asked.

"Better than you might think. What would you have, Riddick?"

He leaned in close, pressed his nose to her hair, felt frail arms under her robe. She smelled like Brian. "Answers. You know more than you've said."

"You think so?"

"I know you set a million-five bounty on my head. You must have thought I was worth something. One man against an army? What odds would you lay on that succeeding?"

"It was never the army you needed to defeat, just the Lord Marshal."

"But you knew they'd bow to me," he said. "Or did you just suspect it would be a Furyan? That was the prophecy, right? A male child. A male Furyan child. You didn't know about me then so you decided to make one of your own. What was the bounty on his father's head?" he asked and heard the shifting of rock beneath Brian's feet. Keep focused, Brian, he thought.

"We knew some Furyans had escaped -- this."

"And when you found them..." Riddick said. "Aren't your kind pledged to balance? Tilting the odds were you?"

"We did what was required to maintain that balance."

He let her go. "For some reason, I'm starting to wonder who raped who..."

He almost smiled at the sharp breath she took.

"I can assure you, it was mutually detestable. But necessary."

"Now, is that any way to talk about your son?"

"Brian's not my son...he's a tool. As you are."

"To stop the Necromongers."

"Yes."

She said nothing else and Riddick stared at her. At least he hoped he was. "Answers, Aereon. What makes you think I can stop them? What makes you think I will?"

"You have no choice."

"You think not?"

"I don't deal in absolutes."

"Then I guess you're fucked," Riddick said and started walking. Brian shifted, angling toward him, the strap of the rifle making a soft click

"What is it you want?" Aereon said.

"I told you. Answers," he said. "What happened here?"

"You know what happened. The Necromongers came. Killed every man, woman and child they could find."

"And then they waited thirty years to show up on your doorstep?" Riddick asked.

Aereon sighed. "It was an advanced scouting team. We have been preparing for their arrival in all these years."

"Well, you did a shitty job," Riddick said. "So they came here. Destroyed the Furyan race because of some prophecy and turned around and headed back to where ever they were..."

"Yes."

"You're a poor liar, Aereon." Riddick took the steps necessary to get close and felt Brian's hand on his arm -- whether to stop him from striking or because he was about to run into her without knowing it. He sensed her then. "This was not a race of people. Not here. Warriors and conquerors. That's what we were...but on this planet? No. How many, a few hundred thousand? More people died when the Necromongers landed on Helion Prime than were ever here."

"You seem to have figured much out for yourself."

"But not enough," he said. "What did you think I would do, Aereon? If I won."

"As all Lord Marshall's have done, make your pilgrimage to the Threshold."

"It's a real place?" Brian asked her.

"Oh, yes. It's real," she said and Riddick could hear the chill in her voice. "Leave us," she said, with an imperiousness Riddick wasn't sure he could emulate, Lord Marshall or not. She waited and Riddick listened as Brian shouldered the rifle. Other footsteps, her guards, her companions...retreated.

"They defer to you a lot," he observed, lifting his chin toward the retreating guard.

"They have good reason. Very well, Riddick, you wanted answers...I may not have all you seek."

"And you'll lie about most of it. Go on."

It sounded like she chuckled, but it was rusty. "Have you spent any time at all trying to understand the history of what you've inherited? The very nature of the Necromongers themselves?"

"Some. They're awfully partial to honking their own horns."

"They weren't always so. In the beginning, they eschewed the building of monuments, the aggrandizement of their own faith. From the beginning they have seen human life as a blight upon the universe as a whole, a mistake. And error in need of correction. And to that end, they have given up their own lives or parts of them to accomplish this. Their "purifications" rend that which is human from them and leave them shells of the living. Necromongers do not die Riddick. They can only be killed."

"And they can be killed, almost as easily as humans." Riddick snapped out. "Don't give me riddles, tell me something I can use, Aereon. They came here thirty years ago and wiped out what was left for the Furyans. Why? Just because one of us might eventually kill a lord Marshall? Bullshit. Prophecy or not there's more to it than that."

"So there is -- they cannot die, Riddick." Aereon said urgently. "Not as you understand it. There are those among the Necromongers now, that remember a race they encountered centuries ago...A race that very nearly defeated them -- There have been others. Early in their history, they met a race, an empire of people known as the Carthodox -- it is from them that their current technology was wrested. Those -- creatures -- known as the Quasi Dead arose from that conflict. The Necromongers won but their ranks were decimated. It took another century or more before they could move forward, sweeping through galaxies, through systems -- more powerful than before, but more cautiously. The Quasi Dead gave them an advantage, the ability to communicate long distances, beyond the grave, as it were, for the Quasis are closer to the UnderVerse than even the Lord Marshall -- being in two places requires great strength and great will."

Riddick took a step back, felt Brian's hand at his lower back. Shirah had whispered the same thing. "What does that mean?"

"You fought him, Riddick," Aereon said. "Every Lord Marshall ventures through the threshold twice. Once when he ascends and once when he passes through forever. Zhylaw, the Lord Marshal you defeated, found a way to be both there and here."

"How?"

"Zhylaw was the second of the Lord Marshall's to arise, not from the ranks of the original Necromongers, but from among the ranks of the converts. Kyrll was the first. The Carthodox gave them weaponry, technology, but it was another race that gave them the will to succeed. A race of warriors who, even without Purification, could withstand pain, would fight beyond death, if necessary. Who already had half the known universe on guard before the Necromongers arrived."

"Furyans."

"Yes. Your race, centuries ago...millions died -- their corpses were spread out over a dozen worlds. The Necromongers were already pledged to destroy all human life -- destroying the Furyan race was seen as key to that. What few survived, came here."

"But why?" Brian asked. "The Necromongers defeated them. What made them -- us -- so different?"

"Beyond death," Riddick said. "Killing the Furyans didn't stop them -- not entirely."

"No," Aereon said. "It did not. And the conversion process is flawed, but you already knew that, didn't you, Riddick? One cannot be forced to convert, but neither can they resist entirely. So, they wait in hiding. Wait to be summoned. And only another of their kind can do that. You, Riddick. One who commands the will of two races. One by conquest, one by blood."

"Where can we find them?" Brian asked but Riddick reached back to catch his arm.

"Among the dead. The near dead," Riddick said.

He never heard her move but he felt Aereon's hand on his chest. "Yes. You do understand. The UnderVerse holds no promise of life ever after for your people, Riddick. Nor for any of us. Not even the Necromongers. They follow a madman's dreams."

"You say."

"I know," she said. "Human life, Riddick. Did you think Elementals were human?"

Brian tensed up behind him.

"Lord Vaako is approaching," Aereon said and slipped away.

"Do we wait?" Brian asked him.

Riddick let him go, turned to face him. "You should go with her."

"What? No." Brian sounded so sure, so absolute.

"Brian, I only half understand any of this -- but the only way to stop them is to take them through the UnderVerse. I don't think they're ready to go yet. They barely tolerate me unconverted."

"Then let them convert me."

"No!" Kyra's face, her dull eyes and dead voice flickered through his memory.

"Yes. That's what she meant, isn't it? Why I was brought into being at all," Brian said softly. "Elementals aren't human. Furyans are resistant."

"No, Furyans fight," Riddick said, reaching out to grip both his arms. "You remember that."

The whine of a ships engines jerked both their heads up -- too large to be a scout.

"Shit," Brian said under his breath and pulled away. "It's a frigate."

Never let it be said that Vaako came to a party unprepared.

It landed and Riddick could feel the earth rumble beneath his feet. Brian gripped his arm. "Riddick, you can't see."

"It's not like I forgot, Brian," he snarled back and started walking toward the Frigate. The smell of heated metal and exhaust was enough to guide him.

"My Lord Marshall," Vaako's voice was steady and strong.

"Vaako," Riddick said. "Nice entrance. You see that ship?" he said, waving vaguely. "Bring them -- all of them with us."

"With us, my Lord?"

"We have a pilgrimage to make. The fleet is ready to journey to the Threshold, isn't it?"

"Awaiting only your command, my lord."

Vaako was being entirely too agreeable. It made Riddick nervous.

Then he heard boots on metal, troops descending the ramps. A squadron perhaps, twenty warriors and Riddick lifted his head.

Glimmers sparked before his eyes and he blinked, stopped walking so suddenly Brian almost ran into him.

Movement, light...the ghostly image of an open palm. His own brand throbbed and behind him Brian sucked in a sharp breath. Directly before him a negative image formed -- his vision was not clear, but there was no mistaking Vaako.

And moving around him, other images the warriors moving to carry out his orders and there...and there...that image.

The flare of a bright and burning handprint on the chest of some, maybe one in four...

"When you see, you will understand."

Centuries ago...

Riddick could only stare.

Necromongers didn't die, they could only be killed, and Furyans didn't die easily.

Everything was still in a reverse image, a negative, but Shirah looked solid and real and satisfied. She reached out both hands.

He heard Vaako voice false concern.

Brian's protest -- warning -- was far more sincere, screaming his name. He thought maybe it was Brian who caught him as he fell, but it could have been Shirah.

She'd touched him once before and unleashed the anger of an entire race on their enemies, now she turned it around and Riddick felt it all flood back into him.

Hurt didn't even begin to describe it.

Part 13

"Are you with me, Riddick?"

He couldn't tell who was speaking; male, female; there was no telling. It sounded hollow, tinny, the emotionless voice of a nav com. What he did know was just the words felt like they were bouncing around inside his skull like low impact grenades. If he could find his arms and a sharp enough blade he'd take the top of his own head off just to get them out.

Someone wiped as his face but the cloth felt like sandpaper, the water cold enough that he could feel ice crystals form under his skin. Jerking away set off more grenades in his head.

But he found his arms. He pulled but couldn't move. Some sharp, musky aroma tore at his nostrils, the chink and slither of heavy fabric over dry skin -- it sounded like a snake.

Dame Vaako.

"My Lord?" She said, in that voice that sounded like sex and yet slid under his skin like a thin blade: sharp and painless but deadly. "Are you back with us, Lord Riddick?"

He thought his skull was intact, despite the mini explosions behind his closed lids, and opened his eyes.

Darkness still, but not absolute. Negative images burned his eyes, like the traceries in his night vision, sharply silver outlines of Dame Vaako as she leaned toward him. Even could he see normally, though, he'd see no bright thermals -- only a residual glow. A glimmer of the life she'd once had.

No brand burned across her chest.

She reached for him again and he tried to strike her hand away, only he couldn't move his arm. He flexed his hands, found his wrists caught. He was sitting, but his arms were outstretched, his thighs and ankles restrained. Another strap caught his throat when he tried to look down.

The cool slither of her hand rasped across his body. He was in a small round chamber; and interrogation room within the Basilica. He shifted his gaze around the circular room and saw guards...eight of them.

Three bore the brand, a wide spread palm outlined in red, flickering and pulsing with heartbeats that no longer sounded.

He wanted to demand what happened, but he couldn't. Not in front of her. "Is this anyway to treat your Lord Marshall?" he asked. Beneath his feet he could feel the throb of the sublight engines.

He felt like he'd been turned inside out. If Shirah weren't already dead, he'd hunt her down and kill her himself.

"My husband said you collapsed. Had a fit," she said, backing away a few feet. "Summon Lord Vaako. Tell him the Lord Marshall is awake," she said and one of the unbranded guards left.

"I had a vision," he said which was true enough.

"Did you? And what did you see? Your own fall perhaps?" she asked him and then moved to the small control panel set in front of his chair. He heard the whine of hydraulics as she maneuvered something forward from the behind the chair. Metal cylinders were positioned on either side of his throat.

"Should I be surprised I'm still alive?" he asked.

"By no means, my Lord. My husband has followed your orders exactly. Even now we approach the first marker en route to the Threshold. When we reach it, we will shift to light speed. A few days and you can behold the glory of the UnderVerse yourself."

Riddick took a deep breath, steeling himself to actually try and move, find some give in the restraints. To his own ears it sounded like his joints would shatter and he could almost imagine every bone in his body laced by tiny cracks and fissure -- like ruins of stone, waiting for the right combination of time and weather to shatter into rubble.

"Where are the others?" Riddick asked.

"Prisoners, for now. The Elemental witch has been returned to her previous quarters." In the brig, then. "Your other companions...have proved less than cooperative. They await an audience with the Quasi Dead."

The door opened, and Vaako strode in. Even in a negative view, he looked like stone. Cold stone. Riddick blinked at shimmer at his back, warmth that quickly faded.

"My Lord," he said with a little bow.

"I'm still alive, Vaako. Is that smart?" Riddick asked him and shivered at a waft of air behind his back, across his skull. His heart beat a little faster at that ghostly caress

Vaako came closer, put his face level with Riddick's. "It's necessary. Already your commanders speculate among themselves who best to take your place when you fall. But until you, succession fell to whoever the previous Lord Marshall named. Among the upper ranks, such niceties are not so easily observed -- but among the vast numbers of Necromongers...already they question how one unconverted could do such a thing. Our very faith hangs in the balance of your succession -- your very existence threatens us more than the humans who would resist us. So, you will make your pilgrimage, my Lord. And when you face the UnderVerse and cross over, I will succeed you, by your own words."

"Now why would I do that?"

"You will do more than that. You will lead, until we reach the UnderVerse and I will be your faithful aid. Do so, and I will set your 'prisoners' free when we reach the Threshold. We will hunt them down eventually...but," he shrugged. "Deny me this and I will strip the flesh from their bones before you."

"Dead or dead. That's not much of a choice Vaako."

Vaako smiled and Dame Vaako moved to the control set directly in front of Riddick. "Perhaps not, but, what do human's say...that while you have life, you have hope. A chance. Your race escaped annihilation once before. But for you, Riddick...Conversion is no longer a choice. It is an absolute." He backed up and nodded at Dame Vaako. "It begins now."

Riddick grunted and jerked as he heard the thin cylinders of metal begin to spin. Cutting his eyes to one side he could see the needle-like slivers emerge.

Warmth caressed his throat. He felt nothing but heat -- no pain, which was wrong.

He felt blood on his neck, a tiny prick, but not the agony he expected. A harsh intake of breath behind him and his brand throbbed flared, burned, and then Riddick screamed.

Dame Vaako smiled and stepped back after setting a final control. Vaako lingered for a moment longer, frowning. Riddick clamped his mouth shut and forced himself to relax entirely, slumping in his bonds.

It took a long few minutes before he heard them leave and he remained still even after the door had closed again.

He heard Brian take a soft breath, blow it out slowly, across Riddick's skin.

"Brian..." he said softly. "What are you--"

"Shut up," Brian whispered, voice tense. "They target the nerve clusters in your neck. Fewer in my hands," he said, but he didn't sound like he was pain free. Proving a point maybe -- he could handle it. A moment later, Riddick felt the tiny scrapes at his throat fade, heard the hydraulics whine as they were forced apart. Cooler air brushed the left side of his throat and the strap there was released. "Lean forward," Brian said tightly. Riddick did so and heard the hydraulics wine again and snap as they closed again.

Brian reached for the restraints at his wrists, shimmering into view. He left a trail of blood across Riddick's skin, glowing hot and red but cooling quickly.

Freed, Riddick still felt like his bones would shatter but he caught Brian's hands, could see the hot blood welling into the perfectly round wounds that showed in his palms; there were other hot spots on Brian's body, on his face. He was breathing harshly, and Riddick pressed his hands between his own. "Let me try and heal this..." he said. Or at least slow the bleeding. It felt different. The heat flared but instead of feeling Brian draw from him, it was like he was drawing the heat from Brian. Brian shuddered, pulled back, almost went to his knees.

"I don't understand," Riddick growled but he stopped.

Brian gasped for a second or two longer then shook his head. "Leave it. I won't bleed to death, but it won't take them long to realize I've slipped out. Or what I am. This is a trick we only get to do once."

Still holding Brian's palms together between his own, Riddick leaned forward and pressed his lips to the cool forehead. "I need to get to the throne room, to the great hall. If I'm going to call up the Furyans. It will have to be there."

"Do you even know how?"

"I think so," Riddick said but he wasn't sure. Not at all.

Brian pulled his hands away and Riddick watched the heat signature fade. "How's your vision?"

"Better. Not normal. Everything's reversed, like a negative image. But I can see our people. I can see you, more or less."

Brian was already moving away, but Riddick could see him, or rather, see the trail of blood he was leaving. "Brian...we have to bandage those. They'll see you."

Brian stopped and looked at his hands, flexed his fingers carefully. He reached down and pulled off his shirt, using his teeth to tear the fabric. Riddick reached for a strip and wrapped it carefully around his right palm, tied it tightly, then did the same to his left. "There's already dissent in the ranks."

"I know. I heard him," Brian said. "What are you going to do?"

Riddick straightened himself up. "I'm the Lord Marshal. I'll do whatever the fuck I want," he said and saw Brian's answering grin.

Part 14

It should have been harder. But Vaako was being too clever for his own good. He really should leave the subterfuge to his wife. Riddick strode though the halls and companionways like he owned them, passing people, all of whom bowed.

Beside him, Brian slipped like a ghost between people, flattened himself against walls and only shimmered into view occasionally. Riddick had no idea how long he could manage to stay nearly invisible and once he pressed him back as a leashed lenser ambled by with its controller. He blocked Brian's body heat with his own and stared down both. Beneath the lenser's armor, a dull hand print glowed, but Riddick didn't dare even try to summon up whatever might remain of the Furyan it had once been. The last thing they needed was the shriek of one of them setting the whole damn Basilica on edge.

It wasn't until they reached the entrance to the Necropolis that they ran into a cluster of five guards, all bearing the same fragmented brand.

Riddick stopped, stared at them. To a man they stared back.

He could feel it, the recognition. It was sluggish and as confusing as everything he saw through his strange reversed vision, but it was real enough. Confirmed when his own brand began pulsing again. "They know what you are," Brian whispered in his ear.

An alcove kept them from drawing too much attention to themselves.

"May as well see if this is going to work at all," Riddick said and stepped up, beckoned the nearest warrior forward.

He looked older than Riddick. Scars lined his face and his arms beneath his uniform. The eyes that stared at Riddick, even in the weirdly reversed imagery, seemed brighter though, like he'd come half awake on his own.

He reached out and pressed his palm to the dully pulsing brand.

He felt like a repeat of what he'd felt with Brian: Not like he was giving up anything, as he had when he had been able to heal, but like he was taking something away. It felt icy under the palm of his hand but his skin burned, his lungs constricted like they were being seared as surely as if he'd inhaled in the face of Crematoria's thermal front. Then it reversed and Riddick gasped as heat was sucked out of him again.

But the man's head snapped up, a low grunt of surprise escaping him and the sensation faded.

Had Brian not been right behind him, Riddick was sure he'd have staggered, but he felt his palm between his shoulder blades, the soft damp press of the bandage. The heat of him.

The icy sensation faded and his vision clouded slightly. "Are you with me?" he asked the man.

"I am, my Lo--" he stopped raised his hand and Riddick clasped it. "Riddick." He almost seemed to shake something off and Riddick could see the heat signature of his body increase, like blood was flowing into long unused tissues -- or maybe it was merely will.

Maybe it was something else.

There were four remaining, but after the third, Brian was no longer hidden, his arms wrapped around Riddick to hold him up. Two of those awakened, watched their backs...it was a pitifully small army.

Taking a beating would have been easier and the only thing that was good in any of it was the fact that his vision was getting clearer.

It was taking too long though. "If I have to do this to every one of our people," he said. "We'll never get through it..."

"You can rest while they get the others," Brian said, but sounded worried.

Riddick ground his teeth together and beckoned the last one forward. The woman came forward, unflinching.

When he was done, his legs gave out and she reached out to steady him. She was as scarred as her companions, but her gaze was steady, unnerving.

She pulled off her helmet, exposing a concave hollow in her skull, her hair shaved to a mere bristle save one thin gray braid that hung to her shoulder.

Even with her altered appearance she was frighteningly familiar. Tall, thin...her eyes burned into Riddick's as she held her palm up.

He caught it, squeezed it hard enough to make her fingers turn white. "Shirah."

"Riddick," she said and her lips curved up in a smile that made the hard lines of her face softer "We've waited a long time for your coming, little brother," she said, her voice rough and low, raspy, harsher than in his dreams.

"He can't do this for all of you -- us," Brian said.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," Riddick said reaching out to steady himself on the bulkhead. His arm trembled.

"Awakening that which was sleeping," Shirah said. "We will be making the shift to light speed shortly. We need only be connected," she said and laid her hand on Riddick's shoulder. Behind her, the first Furyan Riddick had resurrected laid his hand on her shoulders and the others repeated the gesture. "One heart, one mind, one will," she said.

He could feel it, like a single heartbeat...an echo that thrummed to his bones, set warmth and strength curling through him, Riddick squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened them he was on the plains of Furya again -- and this time it was no shadow. Cities rose, towers that seemed to stretch forever. Temples stood open. But the streets were vacant, the temples empty -- wind sang through the open windows of the towers and wailed, like the planet itself was keening for the loss of life, the loss of purpose.

A familiar breeze cooled his skin. Shirah still gripped his shoulder but she was as he'd always seen her, young, unscarred, her hair dark, her eyes darker. "Not one of us converted willingly," she said. "Ten thousand, Riddick. And of those ten thousand, every one was tortured into submission. What you take unto yourself is that. Undoing what was forced onto us. Less than a thousand remain, but it may kill you yet. But we bury our own dead, Riddick. And no Furyan dies alone. Ever."

His vision shifted to the barren plains, marker upon marker. He blinked again and it was gone, the dull, dark grey bulkheads rose around him.

"I don't plan on dying at all. Alone or otherwise," he growled but he felt stronger. "So once we're all awake, then what? A thousand against ten thousand Necromongers? You want to lay odds on that one, Shirah?"

"The Threshold must be closed."

Riddick jerked away from her and slammed his fist against the metal. "Then tell me how."

"What exists there, cannot exist here. Nothing living -- fully living -- has ever passed through the Threshold and returned. Until the previous Lord Marshall. Furyan's cannot be entirely separated from their will," Shirah said.

"Or their souls?" Brian asked.

Shirah stared at him, her eyes narrowing. "An interesting concept from an Elemental. Times must be desperate indeed that one of their kind would so debase herself with one of us," Shirah said, looking at Brian like he was less than the dirt beneath her fingernails.

"You can get into a spitting contest with Aereon later," Riddick said flatly, reaching behind him to grip Brian's arms. "Now, what do we need to do?"

Shirah drew a breath and dropped her glare. "Wait for the shift to light speed. Gather our people -- but we must destroy the Quasi Dead, lesser and greater, or they will warn the fleet. Only this ship has the coordinates of the markers for the Threshold. Without contact with it they will miss the mark and travel onward until they realize that something is wrong -- days, weeks, months. Well beyond range of immediate threat. Less than five thousand Necromonger troops reside on the Basilica. Those odds are acceptable," she said with a smile. "Awakened, and our people can cut that number in half before hey realize they are being attacked from within."

"Assuming we can do that much...how do we close the Threshold?"

Shirah looked less certain. "I am not sure I can tell you that, Riddick. The Last Lord Marshal, Zhyrlaw, was of our kind. When he passed through and returned, it was half awake, but torn. What cannot be separated was shared, here and there. His will was very strong. It may be that he even recognized what it was that he had done and why. But he was of the converted -- forced, but converted. You are not. If you can find no other way, this ship carries a Conquest Icon, set it to explode and it will take out this ship and anything close by, including the Threshold. Freed of the influence of the UnderVerse, what remains of our people spread through the rest of the fleet may awaken on their own. We may never know."

The ship shuddered and alarms sounded, warning. Shirah reached out to grip his tunic and Brian's arm slipped around his waist as the Basilica, seemed to heave, tremble and stretch. Then the rumbling stopped and Riddick felt his stomach roll. "Light speed," he murmured.

"They will expect a word from you, for this journey," Shirah said, pulling her helmet back on. "No one will think it odd to summon an audience."

"No one but Vaako. He still thinks you're having your brains pumped out in conversion," Brian said and flickered out of sight.

They all moved into the hallway, Shirah and another guard flanking him, Brian behind him and near invisible, the others falling in behind. None would think it odd for the Lord Marshal to be escorted so.

"Vaako expects you to fail at the threshold. He has little support among the other commanders and only a handful of troops that will fall to him. Necromongers are not mindless nor even truly will-less," Shirah said. "But their desires to be reunited with what has been surrendered to the UnderVerse is stronger than nearly anything else."

Riddick stopped. "Surrendered to the UnderVerse -- what?"

"Their -- souls --" she said with a slight sneer, glancing at Brian. "That which makes them human. It's taken from them in the conversion process, maintained by the quasi dead until a pilgrimage is made, and cast across. The draw to the UnderVerse, for them, is stronger than you can imagine. In Due Time, they can be reunited. This ship, the necropolis itself, carries millions of souls, carries the very essence of the living in its core."

The whole concept made Riddick's head hurt and he had no time to ask anything else, because there were more Necromongers appearing, the closer to the necropolis and command centers they got. They were also gathering stares -- or he was and Riddick gritted his teeth. He looked like he'd been in more than one fight with Brian's blood still drying on his skin.

He pushed in toward the comms center, and everyone present bowed. "Call the troops to the Necropolis, open channels to the other ships and some body bring me some clean clothes," he said. Then he smiled. "And somebody find Lord and Lady Vaako. I'd like a word with them," he said and strode through.

He heard Brian chuckle. "Oh, shut up," he said under his breath.

Lord Toal, stared at him, dark skin almost blending in with the shadow beyond. But he knelt to him and Riddick gestured his to his feet impatiently. "What?"

"Lord Vaako is...one of the prisoners has escaped. He seeks him now."

"Have they? And no one thought I should know?" Riddick said. "Find him -- Vaako. And bring me the Elemental witch," He shoved Toal off and they moved through, the doors of the Necropolis opening to admit him.

This place gave him the creeps. Maybe Shirah was right and the souls of thousands watched him.

He didn't pause though, only strode to the throne, stopping only long enough to stare at the base of it. The blood had been cleaned away weeks ago but Riddick swore he could see Kyra's shadow there. He looked up, wondered if she was among those who watched and waited.

And even as he watched, a spatter of blood appeared, only a drop, almost directly where she had fallen. Coldness crept up his spine. "Brian..." he whispered. "You're still bleeding."

The blood spot was smeared by an invisible foot. A waft of warmth stroked across his neck. "I'll be back," came the murmur and Riddick bit back the warning -- the request not to go.

Already the hall was filling up though, mostly with the upper ranks. Two aides brought him his armor and he let them strap it on. He fought back a smile when another guardsmen brought his cloak, fair hair hidden by a helmet, but nothing could hide the blue eyes but Brian's down cast look.

The feel of his own blades in his hand made him feel more confident than he had. Shirah stood to his right and Brian to his left.

"Any idea what you're going to say to them?" Brian asked him.

"I sucked at poetry in school."

"Did you go to school?"

"Never officially," Riddick murmured and lifted his head Toal and a half dozen guardsmen escorted Vaako and Dame Vaako into the Necropolis. They both looked ready to spit nails.

Riddick didn't wait for them but strode down the dais to the floor, feeling the ripple of apprehension as a path was cleared to put him directly in front of them both.

Vaako bowed and Dame Vaako dropped in a graceful curtsy.

When Vaako lifted his head, Riddick put everything he had into the punch and sent him sprawling. He could kill him, he realized, and no one would lift a hand to stop him. The idea had its merits. Instead he dropped a knee onto his chest and pulled his blades, laying them crosswise against his throat.

"I understand you lost one of my prisoners," Riddick said. Vaako blinked. Not what he'd been expecting, but his eyes narrowed. Riddick leaned closer. "I will have your loyalty or I will have your fucking head," he said.

"I serve the Lord Marshall's will," Vaako said, and dropped his gaze.

"Sure you do," Riddick said pleasantly and pulled the blades crosswise.

Riddick blinked, the faint shimmering outline of a palm on Vaako's chest. Fuck. It faded almost immediately but his wrists snapped up slightly and the blades skimmed across Vaako's jugular, rather than severing it.

He still left his mark. Riddick dragged a thumb through the blood. Instinctively, Vaako's hand came to his throat as Riddick rose up and Vaako stared, opened his lips to speak than pressed them tightly together.

Without looking, Riddick reached out in a blur, his fingers closing around Dame Vaako's throat. Then he looked at her as he squeezed. Vaako moved and Riddick planted a booted foot on his chest.

Dame Vaako showed more restraint although she gasped for air, her eyes wide and dark. He stared hard at her, but no familiar brand showed itself: she was as cold as she looked. He eased his grip, turned it into a caress and drew her closer to him. "Maybe, when I name a successor, I should set a new trend?" he said. "My Lady, the Lord Marshall?" he asked her.

He put his lips to her ear. "Try that again, and it won't be in Due Time, my lady. It will be in my time and I'll leave you screaming." He rubbed his thumb across her lips, painting them with Vaako's blood, then shoved her away. "My Lord Toal," he called out and Toal shouldered his way through, inclining his head. "Dame Vaako is to be escorted at all times. I fear for her...safety," he said.

He turned his back on all of them and strode back toward the throne.

"No Necromonger would show such mercy," Shirah chided him and he turned on her.

"But I'm no Necromonger, am I, priestess?" he hissed. "He's one of us."

"We are not incorruptible," she said.

"Now you tell me," he snapped and kept moving

When he turned, the hall was filled. "Find them," he muttered and the Furyans moved. Brian only went as far as the base of the dais and Riddick beckoned Vaako forward.

"This journey," Riddick began. Only his voice and the shifting of feet among the faithful broke the silence. "Will be the last to the Threshold, before all Necromongers cross to the UnderVerse. When we complete this pilgrimage, the Universe will be cleansed, wiped clean of the infection it's harbored for millennia," he said, believing every word. He stepped down.

Vaako looked at him uncomprehendingly even when Riddick laid a hand on his shoulder. Vaako's bloods stained his fingers. His other hand, he laid on Brian's shoulder and under his cloak, Brian dared to cover it. Riddick felt the pulse of awareness rise as Brian reached out to grip the shoulder of the guardsman next to him.

Almost reluctantly, Vaako did the same. "As one people, one will, we will claim what is ours," Riddick said. The words felt too formal, unlike him, but throughout the hall, hands reached out and touched.

And his vision turned red, burned his eyes. Brian gripped his hand.

They were so few. Even as his vision cleared, Riddick could see them, feel them, amid the darker, colder presences, bright shimmers in the darkness, flames amid the shadows.

The voices rose up as the last connection was made, Necromongers claiming their belief in the UnderVerse, in that promise. Riddick didn't echo it, only sent a promise of his own.

It was worse than traveling at the threshold of light speed. He felt like he was being torn into small pieces, ravaged cell by cell, faced death a thousand times or more and his own life bled out of him. Screams rose up that only he could hear but a very physical shock wave ran through the chamber as Furyan blood rose to fill Furyan veins, Furyan wills.

The anger of an entire race. Shirah had given it to Riddick once. He gave it back.

Part 15

He'd unleashed a blood bath. Almost immediately, Furyans rose to seal the Necropolis from inside, and those that didn't seal the chamber, turned on the non-Furyans among them.

Aereon and the Allied planets had been right to fear the ferocity of the Furyans.

Riddick might have gone down in the first wave of fighting -- he didn't remember falling, didn't remember anything but his own life slipping away in the wave of energy and power that sucked the breath from his body and flowed outward, awakening every Furyan it touched. It was like giving up his blood for them only his blood was on fire, burned his veins.

He only half came to himself when he felt Vaako haul him up and shove him backward. Strong arms caught him, shoved him toward the throne and Riddick fell against it, trying to will both his limbs and his mind to work.

His vision was clear if still tinged red by the blood vessels that had ruptured in his eyes.

He was not surprised that Brian kept himself between the retaliating Necromongers and Riddick. Vaako was more of a surprise but then again, maybe not. Vaako had helped him put down the previous Lord Marshall for reasons of his own, maybe even reasons he didn't understand at the time.

Brian sliced through a man's arms, dropping a hand gun to the floor and Riddick almost fell over reaching for it. Why they protected him made no sense, really. Riddick had done what was needed.

Not that he was going to complain about having his ass saved. He charged up the weapon and forced himself to lift his arms and fire. And when the charge died, he pulled a blade from a fallen body and kept moving -- always aware of Vaako to his right and Brian at his back.

He could still see the Furyans, could feel them like a hum in the back of his brain.

When they were done, when the last body hit the floor, the whole chamber looked like it had been painted in blood.

So did most of those left standing.

Riddick let his long blade touch the floor and almost went down with it only to find Brian's shoulder under his.

Brian's hair was nearly black with gore, his helmet gone. Hands and arms so reddened with blood, it was a wonder the blade didn't slip from his grasp. He didn't actually seem any steadier on his feet than Riddick and the skin of his face, what Riddick could see of it, was whiter than snow.

Movement forced Riddick erect and he didn't deny a certain dark wish that Shirah had fallen, but there she stood, regarding him with no apologies, like she could read his thoughts. Maybe she could. "We hold the Necropolis and the command center. The chambers of the lesser quasis are no more than crypts. The Greater Quasis themselves have set up such a barrier we cannot reach them from here." She pointed to the locked doors. "The controls are on the far side. But the Necromongers hold the corridors. They may have already contacted the rest of the fleet."

"They will not have done so," a light voice called out.

Aereon. Riddick had forgotten he'd summoned her. Even as she revealed herself, he could see where blood had spattered her gown. There was none on her hands though. "The Greater Quasis serve at the Pleasure of the Lord Marshall," she said. "They will protect themselves but will answer to no one else. They may not answer even to you, Riddick, although they know you well, by now."

"If we can get to them," Shirah said. "They've ripped apart the minds of two of our own who tried to force the doors."

Brian glanced at Shirah, then at Vaako. "Tell me where the controls are."

"Brian--" Riddick said.

"If we do not silence them, if they seek to contact the Lesser Quasis on the other ships," Vaako said slowly, staring at Brian. "When we emerge at the Threshold, we will face an armada. Even if we controlled all of the Basilica, I do not think we could overcome them."

Riddick took that in and stared at Shirah, expecting her to step in, but she said nothing. He shifted his gaze to Aereon. "You engineered this little coup, Aereon. Not willing to get blood on your hands?"

"I have more blood on my hands than you could imagine, Riddick," she said. "Don't you wonder why your predecessor never put me before the Order of Greater Quasi Dead to get what answers he sought from you?"

"Not until now," Riddick snapped out.

"We travel the same planes by different methods. Believe me when I say, they know I am here. If I move beyond this place, they will alert the others -- they may already be growing tired of waiting for your orders."

"I only need to open the doors," Brian said. "If they are focused on Aereon, they may not notice me."

And if they did, or any of those beyond the doors discovered him...Riddick didn't need an Elemental odds maker to know how stacked this game was. "One against thousands. Not even I'm that good," Riddick told him.

Aereon stepped close to him. "He is but a tool, Riddick," she said. She couldn't move fast enough to escape the back on his hand, and the force of it sent her sprawling. Brian stopped him before he could advance on her. No one helped her up.

"She's right," Brian said softly, his hand on Riddick's chest. "I'm only half what she is, maybe less. They," he said, glancing at the Furyans gathered. "Aren't the only ones you awakened."

"I will keep them occupied," Aereon said getting up carefully. She glared at Riddick. "They should recognize you. Will answer to you."

"You think," Riddick said. "If you're wrong--" he couldn't finish it. He glared at Brian. "You know, a little self--preservation on your part would go a long way to making me feel better."

He wasn't willing to lose another person he cared about. And he did care -- he'd known it, but acknowledging it to himself cut deep.

Brian grinned at him, showed his teeth and hooked his fingers around the upper edge of Riddick's breastplate, over his heart. "I'm not planning on dying, Riddick."

"When the doors to the chamber of the Greater Quasi dead open, the Necromongers will also have a way in. We'll have to hold them off," Vaako said.

Riddick stared upward. Fools all of them. What was he doing this for, again? Oh, yeah. Save the universe. Although with this many idiots he was starting to wonder why he bothered. "All your grand plans of destiny aside," he said, "is there any way in hell that we can actually win this thing?"

"Yes," Aereon said. "I told you, the council did not negotiate from a place of weakness. Even before I met with you, they had sent ships, loaded with the destructive force of a thousand suns toward the Threshold. To do what you would do: close it forever. You will not be without allies -- from either side of the rift."

"What do you mean?" It was Shirah who spoke, approaching Aereon with her weapon drawn. "Your people, once before, betrayed us -- gave us no warning, offered us no help."

Aereon lifted her chin and glared at her, at all of them. It was an annoying habit she had, of seeming to look down on them when all of them towered over her. "Do you not wonder why the Necromongers so crave what they saw beyond the Threshold, what Covu the Enlightened saw when he crossed over? The fate of two Universes rests on the outcome of this conflict." She looked at Riddick. "I told you Elementals were not human. We are not even of this universe. In the 'UnderVerse' dwells all order, all balance. Here, there is chaos and a lack of balance. Both must exist for either to exist. Neither Chaos nor Order can ever exist unaccompanied. Positive and negative, yin and yang. If the Necromongers succeed -- they will not find what they seek. They will destroy the very order they crave."

She pushed the hood of her robe back and lifted her hair away from her neck. On the pale column of her throat were the darker marks of the Converted. "Separate body from spirit, or force spirit to take a living form," she said. "The Greater Quasis are of my people. They serve the Lord Marshall in the hope that he will take them home someday."

"You helped them," Riddick said. "You tell us this now and expect me to help?" he wanted to laugh at her. "Aereon, I don't know how they do things on your side of hell, but here, when you betray someone, it usually makes them less willing to help and more willing to kick your wrinkled old ass," he snapped out at her.

She smiled at him -- it was neither amused nor attractive but she stayed out of reach. "The lesser of two evils, Riddick. Our numbers were few, they remain so. The Furyans do not easily separate body from will, but we did not realize it until too late. So we waited. When a Furyan rose to the rank of Lord Marshall, the odds of success greatly increased. Who do you think saved your infant life, Riddick? Your own people hunted down the last of you, at the Lord Marshall's command."

The color drained from Shirah's face and she lowered her blade. Aereon cast a disdainful gaze at her. "There are no innocents here. And none who have not sacrificed something." She looked back at Riddick, her gaze flickering between she and Brian and her form wavered, faded, solidified. "It is not an easy thing for an Elemental to hide another. We are not of such substance. Earth and Air, Fire and Water...a few of your kind survived with our help. Enough to get you off planet, but then we lost track of you, the survivors. Those that protected you surrendered all they were, gave up any chance of returning to the UnderVerse."

Brian was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. "You can't go back," he said. "For what you did...for bringing me into this life."

Aereon met his gaze, and if Riddick thought she were even capable of it, he might have seen regret on her face. "All tools eventually outlive their usefulness," she said. "That's true of me as well. We have not much time." She turned away, almost gliding toward the chamber of the Quasi Dead.

No one else moved. Brian's fingertips stroked across Riddick's collarbone. "They won't see me," he said. It sounded like a promise.

Riddick covered his hand briefly. "Don't make me weak," he said softly, barely a whisper and pulled away.

"Watch the doors," Riddick snapped out and the Furyans moved.

The wailing started as Aereon approached the chamber. It was enough to deafen them all, and Riddick felt the reverberations in his skull, the lashing out of powerful minds trying to protect themselves.

If the pain of Conversion was anything like this, maybe he'd made the wrong choice.

Vaako led them to a side access door, testing it. "They will have all the entrances to the Necropolis watched..."

"I only need time enough to get through. Where do I find the controls?" Brian asked.

Vaako gave him directions and Brian shrugged off the cape and armor. His chest was pale and bruised, smeared with sweat and blood.

"Don't forget how to get back..." Riddick said.

"Kill the Quasi dead and I'll come back that way," Brian said and lifted his hand. Riddick caught it, would have pulled him closer but Brian faded and let him go. He felt the firm press of lips on his own, then Vaako opened the door.

A dozen or more Necromongers tried to gain access and once more Riddick found his hands slick with blood, could taste it on his tongue, the tang of it filled his nostrils. Securing the door once more required they pull a half dozen bodies through it.

Panting, he waited but Brian didn't show. He'd either gotten through or he was dead in the hallway beyond. There was only one way to know and Riddick wiped his blades clean and approached the Chamber of the Quasi Dead.

"Be silent!" he bellowed, not sure what would trigger the Quasi Dead to even hear him, but the battering at his mind eased and he pulled Aereon back, laid his hands on the ornate gateway. Closed his eyes as he hard them start echoing his name, one to the other, like a mantra. He felt the doors give way and pushed.

The gates at the far end opened as well and the Furyans rushed past him, Shirah and Vaako leading them to hold back the influx of Necromonger warriors.

He ignored them and stepped to the center of the chamber. "Show yourselves," he called to the Quasi Dead.

The murmuring in the back of his mind fell to a whisper as each of the carapaces glided forward. He could feel them waiting like a sodden cloak on his shoulders, in his mind. It was like being touched by the hands of the dead and his skin crawled.

They didn't even warn one another. If anything , their gibbering and scrabbling an moaning sounded more like cries of ecstasy as he laid a hand on each one's neck. Maybe they sensed release. It was like murdering infants. Whatever drove them, they recognized him, opened the shells of their sarcophagi to him and made no protest save his name when he slit their throats. They hardly bled at all.

No murder had ever made him feel dirtier. Behind him he thought he heard Aereon murmuring something. Did Elementals pray?

The rear doors started to close and the Furyans pulled back, dragging their dead back with them. An explosion sounded, like weapons overload, distant and muffled. The gate to the Necropolis remained open.

Riddick waited, even when the Furyans eased back past the chamber and Aereon stood in the center of it with him. No wailing or battering of their minds occurred.

No brush of warmth touched him. No waft of air.

"Riddick," Aereon said softly.

"If you talk again, before I tell you to, Aereon, I. Will. Slit. Your. Throat," he said deliberately. Flatly.

She left him.

Riddick finally sat, drew his knees up and bent his head to them.

Even his ghosts were silent.

Part 16  
Eventually, someone brought him water, food -- rations from a warrior's kit. Around him the quiet Quasi-Dead -- full dead, he supposed -- were silent. They didn't even smell. Their bodies had collapsed in on themselves, the veils that covered them had become shrouds.

Periodically he heard the Necromongers try to break through a door, heard whispered reports between Vaako and Shirah on the progress of their journey. He took no interest in their plans to break the Furyans into groups so that some could rest, others watch, others still could be pulled in to try and learn ship's systems they'd never trained for. When he glanced up once he saw Aereon, sitting on the lowest step of the dais. She was as isolated by the Furyan distrust as he was by choice.

He got up stiffly. Blood had caked on his arms, in the joints of his elbows, along his neck. He smelled like a charnel house. The whole Necropolis did. The environmentals were barely making a dent in the scent of body fluids and gore. Blood was spread all over the heavily inlaid floor, drying in brownish waves, congealing in pools.

He half supposed the plains of Furya had looked like this once. His boots stuck to the floor and he ignored the tacky feel, stopping only a foot or so away from Aereon. The hem of her robe was rusty brown, like the cloth itself was bleeding.

She looked up at him, her gaze steady. Her eyes were a pale blue. Furyan eyes were darker.

"Why?" he asked, voice low. No one else needed to know. No one else would care. "It wasn't Furyan bastards you feared. It was Elemental ones."

"Yes," she said. "As little as you want to hear it, Riddick, he was bred for one purpose and one purpose only. But sometimes, you can use a screwdriver to hammer a nail, if you don't have a hammer. But...no matter the reason, he was a poor tool. Flawed from the beginning. He was...too human. Too much one of yours and not enough of one of mine."

"But you knew that...it didn't just occur to you recently," he sneered. "Why leave him like that? Unable to..."

"Know pleasure? Have feelings?" she said coolly and got to her feet. "You still don't understand, Riddick. Brian is -- was -- an abomination to both our worlds. The very nature of his existence made him repellant to both universes. Never fully human; he would always seek what he knew was beyond him, beyond this life, that which humans fight so hard to maintain. In my own universe, he would be bereft of those sensations -- touch, taste, smell, sound -- that are so crucial to human experience. Should I have left him to father children who would be equally as lost? Equally as placeless?" she asked flatly, her revulsion at the very idea obvious in her face, her tone; she almost trembled under it.

"You could have given him the choice."

"You think he had no choices?"

"Live under your control or die at your whim? Great choices."

"But choices nonetheless, and he did choose, Riddick. This human life...he chose that. And he chose you. Do you not think I could have stopped him, if I wished?"

Brian had said she could. She could have killed him at any time. "Why didn't you?"

She took a step toward him. Riddick almost wanted to back away. He understood revulsion well enough. "Because in the making of him, I became too human as well. I learned compassion."

Riddick snorted. "If that was compassion, I'd hate to see what you do to people you really dislike."

Her eyebrows raised. "What cruelty he suffered, Riddick, was not at my hand, nor at the hand of any Elemental. Making him a slave protected him from far worse than what I imagine your life brought you, but what he did suffer? He suffered at the hands of humans," she said icily. "Or did you treat him gently?"

His fists clenched but before he could reach for her she shimmered into nothingness.

Still he could hear her. He closed his eyes and listened, sought the heat traces of her body. She moved back into the chamber of the Quasi-dead.

Movement in the corner of his eye made him turn to see Shirah approaching. She looked as weary as he felt -- and shrugged it off just as easily. Her face was grim. "The Necromongers have contacted us through the ship's systems. Vaako is speaking to them, but they want to speak to the Lord Marshal."

"I don't think I have anything to say to them," Riddick said and Shirah twisted her lips in a smile.

"They have prisoners: those who accompanied Aereon, a few Furyans and," she hesitated but she met his stare. "The Elemental bastard."

It was all Riddick needed to hear, what he hadn't hoped to hear really -- hadn't expected. Things followed patterns. He cared for someone and they died. Granted, there was no guarantee Brian would live through this, but then there was no guarantee that Riddick would either. He headed toward the command center, Shirah trotting to keep up with his longer stride.

"We will break light speed in approximately thirteen hours. We can hold them back that long."

Riddick stopped and looked ather. "And then what? Blow this ship, them, the Threshold, all of it to kingdom come?" he shook his head in disbelief. "After so many years beneath their rule, wouldn't you like to live a little, Shirah? Finish the life you started?"

"I want them destroyed," she said. "For every one of us they took, they killed three, Riddick. Millions of our people. The old, the very young -- none were spared. I would spare none of them. Those we buried will not remain dead alone," she said.

"And what about the living, Shirah?" he snarled. "You heard her. A few survived. Don't they deserve any of your energy? Or have you been among the Necros so long that only the dead matter?"

She slapped his chest, pressed her hand to the brand, eyes blazing. "You felt the power, the anger of our entire race! It brought you here. It saved your life. Gave you strength."

He grabbed her hand and twisted it away, nearly hard enough to break the bones of her wrist and bared his teeth. "It's cost me everything I give a shit about," he said through gritted teeth. "And I guarantee you that I'm not talking about a bunch of dead people I didn't even know existed a half a year ago." He shoved her away.

Around them, Furyans were staring and Aereon had reappeared, watching them both.

"You owe it to our race!" Shirah shouted at him. "To our dead!"

"Our race?" Riddick said, and shoved her backwards. "You want justice for our race? Revenge for our dead? I got news for you, sister. The best revenge is to live through it," he snapped out. "What did you tell me? That when the Necromongers came, when they took on the Furyans...no one helped. The lesser of two evils is still evil," he growled. "How was our race any better than the Necromongers? Conquest. War. You didn't convert them, Shirah so what did you do?" he asked her. "Slaughtered them? Made them slaves?"

"We built an empire," she said coldly.

"Empires fall," Riddick said flatly. "Yours. The Necromongers. Surrender or die. Convert or fall forever. You are no different than they are," he snarled. "Your own damn arrogance brought this on your race. I may have your blood in my veins...but what you are, I want no part of. Not your vengeance. Not your anger. And I sure as hell don't plan on dying for a bunch of corpses buried for a hundred years. Find another way. Or I will," he said and spat at her feet. He turned away.

She made no noise but he heard her anyway, felt her, saw her in the sudden jerk of Aereon's head. He twisted, met her head on.

His blades were clean when he pulled them apart. He saw her realize her death before it actually happened. "I've been wanting to do that since the first time we met," he said as her eyes widened. "I hope it fucking hurts like hell."

She dropped. Her lips formed a word and he read traitor in her eyes. Blood suddenly welled from her throat and she fell, her blood mingling with that already on the floor.

"Anyone else want to keep the dead company?" he said in a low voice. A few stepped forward only to stop. His eyes swept the hall, tracking each face, each brand, each pulsing heart. "We may still end up joining them," he said loudly, when no one spoke. "But if what you once were, means anything at all, then you'd better be prepared for a future, rather than settling your past."

He waited, but no one spoke, nor moved. He sheathed his blades and headed for the command center.

They moved behind them to take care of her but Riddick didn't even glance back.

Her death made far less impression on him than her life had. Maybe now she'd stay the hell out of his dreams. "What are they offering?" Riddick asked Vaako as he entered the command center.

"A frigate, with the prisoners. Ready for launch when we emerge from light speed," Vaako said.

"And who's offering?"

Vaako's mouth tightened. "My wife," he said evenly. "By rank, I'm still first, which makes her--"

"Natural successor. Great, " Riddick said. From one crazy bitch to another. Life got no better. Still, if Brian were still alive...he closed his eyes against that faint hope.

"Where is Shirah?" Vaako asked.

"Dead."

"Dead?"

"Dead," Riddick snapped. "As in totally dead, not half, not quarter. Dead." He said it with no tension and kept his eyes on Vaako, aware of the murmur that ran around the edges of the room. "My plan is to get us -- or as many of us as possible -- out of this alive," he said finally, looking around. "Anyone who really has an itch to die, let me know, so when we have to face off with the Necros again, I'll put you on the front lines," he said and once more met eyes wide with shock, even suspicion.

Riddick rubbed at his face and smelled blood on his hands. "Do we have any way to know if they were able to contact the rest of the fleet?"

Vaako tore his eyes away. "Bring up the comms logs," he told one of the other Furyans who only looked at Vaako and then the comms array with confusion. Vaako's lips thinned again, but he didn't snap at the woman, instead he brought the logs up himself. "One short burst message, but without the lesser quasi-dead, what communications they can manage, even from the transport ships, will be difficult to get through... a delay of minutes or even hours due to the time distortion. But we can't be entirely sure."

"And what'll be waiting for us when we get there?" Riddick asked. "Assuming we don't get attacked by either other Necromonger ships or the Allied ships when we show up?"

"There is a Guardian -- a Sentinel at the rift, whose sole job is to bar any non-Necromonger from approaching the Threshold." Vaako said. "Your ascendancy was communicated to him when Zhylaw fell. He will answer to you."

"You're sure?"

"I sent the message myself," Vaako said. "As my first act of loyalty," he added with a faint smile. "And another message when we embarked, to let him know we were moving. Riddick...closing the Threshold will be no easy task."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Riddick said and took a breath. "The prisoners..."

Vaako dropped his gaze. "I can promise you nothing about Zelia's word. If she can hold her position as first, she will challenge you for the position of Lord Marshall. She is highly intelligent and ruthless."

"And beautiful," Riddick said quietly.

It was odd to see so much emotion in Vaako's face. "Yes. Very beautiful, alluring, bewitching -- and ruthless," Vaako said. "If she thinks she can make a bargain, she will keep them alive, but that in and of itself may mean little. Before she became my consort, she was Zhylaw's chief interrogator. She has ever been ambitious."

"Interrogator..." Riddick repeated. "You mean torturer."

"It often amounts to the same thing, yes," Vaako said. "The use of the Greater Quasi-Dead was for extremely strong wills. They tended to shatter most men's minds. If less detail but more finesse was required, Zelia was very adept at getting what information was needed." He hesitated, then leaned close, speaking low. "The one...The Elemental; does he know of his worth to you?" he asked cautiously.

Riddick glared but Vaako didn't look away. "If he does, she will use it against him -- against you, if she can."

"He knew the risks he was taking," Riddick said evenly. "We have twelve hours. If I offer to name her successor, will she abide -- keep them alive?"

Vaako gave it some thought then nodded cautiously. "It is what she craves above all things -- power. Even above the lure of the UnderVerse," he said. "If the succession is in question, she could well lose to one of the commanders, who would command the loyalty of many of the rank and file."

"Can we communicate with her?"

"We can."

It took a few moments, and the signal was not as clear as Riddick would have thought.

It was a lesser officer that he spoke to first but Dame Vaako was soon visible.

She no longer wore the revealing and highly suggesting dresses, her armor looked new, but fit her just as well.

"My Lord Marshall," she said and inclined her head.

"Dame Vaako -- or should I call you Commander Zelia?" Riddick said with an insincere smile.

Zelia's smile was far more honestly amused. "Commander Zelia. I like the sound of that. Thank my husband for me, would you? You've heard our offer?"

"I have. Don't think badly of me if I lack confidence in your sincerity."

"Of course. I lack certain confidence myself," she said. "What assurances can I give?"

"I'll accept what I see with my own eyes."

"Shall I parade them in front of the viewer, so you can see that they are still alive?"

"No. I want to meet with you, Commander. One on one. You want a succession, I want to get out of this alive."

"You want to destroy the Threshold, you and that Furyan bitch."

Riddick laughed. "You've been talking to the wrong people, Commander. As for the bitch, she's dead."

Zelia stared at him suspiciously. "Dead. One of your own?

"I'm about as much one of their own as I am one of yours, Zelia," he said. "Here's what I want. We reach Threshold...I make my little pilgrimage. If I come back, I'll name you to the position of Lord Marshall. Then me, and any of those who want to join me, take your kind offer of a frigate and head out...we'll find some little corner of the Universe that won't bother you...and you can have it. Open it to the UnderVerse, claim your reward, or open up a coffee shop. I don't care."

"We can lay no claim to the UnderVerse until all human life is cleansed," she said.

"Well, that may be true, but The Furyans who remain aren't exactly human any longer, are they? Unless of course, conversion is a lie?" he said it loudly enough for anyone near her to hear it. "Shall we meet to discuss it?"

"And we arrange that how?"

"In the chamber of the quasi dead. We can force the gate open and you can enter. The gates behind me will be closed. You can bring a couple of commanders to assure your safety. Neutral ground," he said and watched her consider it.

"Very well. My prisoners?"

"A show of good faith would be welcome."

"So it shall be. In an hour."

"Can't wait to see you," Riddick said and shut down the link. "Bitch."

Part 17

She was smaller than he remembered. Shorter anyway. It said a lot about her confidence in her position that looking up at him didn't seem to bother her at all. She still moved like the Queen of the universe.

You are what you believe.

She came with two of the Commanders, Toal and Scales, neither of them looking entirely happy to playing second to a woman -- or to anyone save the Lord Marshall he supposed, but discipline was something that could be used cover a variety of attitudes. And weaknesses.

Vaako had asked to join him. Asked. It made Riddick wonder how deep the conditioning went, how much of their own will any of the converted retained or if only the strongest held on to who they were, what they'd been.

"It's like waking from a dream," Vaako had told him when they were getting ready. He'd cast off most of the trappings of his rank. First Commander, First among the Necromongers. He'd kept his armor, but tossed his cloak into their very short pile of supplies to be used as bandages, blankets.

"Don't you mean a nightmare?" Riddick asked, rinsing his mouth out and spitting it back onto a scrap of cloth to wipe at his face.

Vaako had studied him and shook his head. "No. It's a dream where all things make sense. Where the order of the universe seems obvious." He flexed his hand, curling his fingers which pulled open a barely healed cut across the back of his hand and forearm. "Necromongers feel no pain. Or what they feel is merely a sensation, like any other. It's been a long time since the tearing of my own flesh has made any impression on me other than to make my grip slick." He'd wiped his palm on his undertunic. "You may have miscalculated, with Shirah," he said quietly. "Without their anger, her anger -- they have no purpose."

Riddick was beginning to see it, in the face of the Furyans. "Living has usually been purpose enough."

"For you. But you have not been nearly dead for centuries," Vaako said.

"You seem to be adjusting," Riddick said.

"My purpose is to command and serve the Lord Marshall. When those tasks are completed, we shall see."

He'd been right. He'd stepped easily into the role of commander and the Furyans followed, for now.

Aereon had joined them as well -- not a very impressive contingent but it was almost worth it to see the look on Zelia's face when Aereon shimmered into view. Dislike of Elementals seemed to be endemic. He tried not to think about it too much.

"My Lord Marshall," Zelia said and gave him a bow. He'd inclined his head a little. Beside him, Vaako was at a full attention. Riddick stood with his arms crossed. Behind them the gates of the chamber were closed, a score of Fuyans pressed to them with weapons leveled at the parlaying party. Fish in a barrel, but Riddick was all too aware that he'd be caught in the crossfire if things went bad.

"Commander," he said. "A token of good faith, you said."

"So I did." She raised a hand and the rear gates opened a fraction to admit a slender aesthete, Ithelias. He staggered forward, wide eyed but not a gibbering idiot as Riddick might have feared. Someone had worked him over but not to the point of breaking anything as far as Riddick could tell. "An interesting tale he had to tell me," she said as he edged past her. He went to Aereon though -- probably the only familiar face he knew.

"I'm sorry," Ithlelias said. "They know of the ships approaching."

"Looks like you may have a battle on two fronts," Riddick said.

"The timing will be crucial," Zelia said and glanced at Vaako. "There is still a place among us for you, my husband," she offered and moved confidently toward him. "You have seen what the UnderVerse offers."

Vaako leaned down until their lips were almost touching. "A beautiful lie, is still a lie, my Lady," he said.

"I would still willingly rule by your side," she said, her hand traced along Vaako's jaw, her body shifting: pliant, seductive -- even in armor and Riddick could only wonder at the tightening in his own groin. Made him wonder what kind of people she'd sprung from and if there were anymore like her. They'd all be in trouble -- the males anyway.

"Then join me and rule the living," Vaako said. Riddick hid his surprise, eyes narrowing.

She smiled. "An interesting thought," she said and looked at Riddick. "Is that what you offer, My Lord? One empire for another? Will the Furyans rise again? They were challenging enemies. Perhaps even worthy."

"I'm really not much of one for war, Commander," Riddick said evenly. "Maybe you missed that part. I don't care what you do so much as long as I get my own piece of it somewhere. You want to rule the universe, the UnderVerse, it's all yours. But see, if you kill everybody, how's an honest assassin to make a living?"

She smiled at him. "We're on the knife's edge of a Holy War, Riddick. Would you have me -- us -- deny our faith?"

"No, no, not at all..." he said unfolding his arms and beckoned her to him. She trailed a finger along Vaako's throat but came to him. "But see," he said quietly, leaning down to her. "When you finish scouring the universe, when we're all dead, you're gonna have to fulfill that promise to the rest of your unholy dead and take them through...and I have it on good authority, that what you'll find in the UnderVerse, for you? Will be a lot like hell. Rewards in the ever after tend to be a bit more equitable. Orderly. You don't get to be top bitch there, Zelia," he said and stood up, watching her face. "I'd hate for you to get bored," he said.

He hadn't been sure before -- couldn't be sure of how much of the bits and pieces he'd been fed from the Lord Marshal, from Aereon were true. A true religious fanatic would have been more appalled by his blasphemy.

"Your concern is touching," Zelia said. "In this moment, there is no Necromonger who has seen the glory of the UnderVerse for...himself. You fought Zhyrlaw...was he merely a fanatic?"

"I think looking at the UnderVerse scrambles your brains," Riddick said. He pointed at Aereon without looking at her. "She can stop the Allied forces from closing the rift," he said not caring that it was a lie. "You want all or nothing, that's what you'll get. Nothing," he said.

"I could kill you here and now."

"You could try," Riddick said and watched her flinch as his blade pressed to her belly, just below her armor. "Or you and I can come to an understanding. Keep what you kill, Zelia. I still own the Necromongers."

"You think." He pressed the blade deep enough to draw blood.

"I know. Because here you are and those two," he jerked his chin at the two commanders behind her. "Would probably be just as happy with you being dead as they would me."

Her lips thinned and she grabbed his arms, pulling herself onto his blade fractionally. If he twisted it, she'd disembowel herself. He was tempted. He pressed his lips to her ear. "You want to rule over the dead, Zelia. Leave the living to me."

"You'll name me successor."

"I'll put the fucking crown on your head myself," he promised with a smile.

She returned it, eased back and blood trickled over his fingers.

"And your terms?"

"You prepare ships now: Frigates...with supplies. The remaining Furyans will disembark the moment we hit the Threshold."

"Done," she said. "Sub-commander Scales, you will prepare four frigates for expedition. Have them made ready immediately. Then clear the access to them for the Furyans to board."

"Commander?"

"Do it," Riddick said staring at him. Scales didn't know whose orders to follow, even when they agreed.

It was Vaako who moved. He was fast, his blade at Scales's throat. "So spoke the Lord Marshal and your First," he said and Scales suddenly remembered why Vaako had been promoted over him.

"My Lord," he said and waited until Vaako released him, then he turned, shouting orders. Beyond the gates Necromongers actually started moving.

"What else, My Lord?" Zelia purred at him.

"The prisoners."

"Ah yes. I fear the majority of the Fuyrans are likely to succumb to their wounds. An interesting test of faith, I would think. To see if they have claimed a place in the UnderVerse for their prior sacrifices," she said. "Shall we place them aboard the Frigates?"

"If you'd be so kind," he said tightly.

"So it will be done. As for the Elemental," she said and glanced at Aereon. "Had you been more forthcoming about your own people, Aereon, I probably could have saved him much discomfort. But he was useful in persuading Ithelias to be more informative." She looked up at Riddick. "I fear he may be damaged beyond repair. I had no idea Elementals used such clever technology."

"Is he alive?"

"Yes. Shall I bring him to you, or put him on board the Frigates with the others?"

"Can he be moved," Riddick asked, "without more damage?"

Zelia gave him a smile of pure malice -- any more and she'd need fangs. "Of course. Perhaps Aereon will know better than I how the effects of the...tampering...can be reversed. Commander Toal..." she said and Toal rose and backed from the chamber. "Will there be anything else, Lord Marshall?"

Riddick considered it. "I think that about does it for me."

"Very well," she said inclining her head and rising. Riddick reached out and caught her arm.

She stiffened in his grip. "I've negotiated in good faith."

"You may have noticed, but I'm a little lacking in the faith department," he said. "Don't worry, you're still in line for your promotion," he murmured. "The problem with a truly ordered society is, that when things come up unexpectedly, it can ruin your whole day," he said. "Wouldn't you agree, Aereon?"

"Much as it pains me to agree with you on anything, Riddick, I do," she said and Riddick grinned to himself.

It didn't last long and Riddick was quick to put Zelia under Vaako's care when Toal returned, accompanied by two guardsmen, carrying Brian between them.

It was Aereon's cloak that was offered to Riddick to spread on the floor beneath him.

He was as limp as a corpse, but not bloodied and to Riddick's eyes nothing seemed to be broken. Someone had cleaned him up, even his hair. He was marked by cuts and scratches, burns and bruises on his skin, on his hips and around his genitals that Riddick knew hadn't been there before they were taken off the planet where the last Furyans had fallen. But he didn't know if they'd been there when Brian had come to him or been made since then. Some were from the fighting within the Necropolis, others, like the cut across his cheek and the split in his lip, were far newer. The wounds on his hands had been cleaned and rebandaged. His chest rose and fell shallowly, regularly, but when Riddick reached out cautiously, his skin was cool.

He checked Brian's throat but saw no marks of Conversion there, yet his body temperature, when Riddick looked, was about on par with the Necromongers: severely depressed save in key areas -- only the areas in Brian's body were different. Heart, yes, lower body, but only minimal tracing of heat or activity in his brain and Riddick checked his skull, feeling a slight lump but no depressions, no fractures. "What did you do?" he asked in a low voice.

"I fear I broke something," Zelia said and held out her hand. Riddick looked up and opened his palm. "Perhaps Aereon can fix it."

Smaller than a fingernail, almost weightless, it looked like some small innocuous bug, the legs where small feathery leads had been broken or cut off.

"The incision will barely leave a scar," Zelia said helpfully. "Just below his navel. Adorn it with a nice ring or a bit of jewelry and it will be quite lovely. A lovely, mindless, doll..." she said.

She was smiling and it didn't falter when Riddick rose up slowly, towered over her. "It would be a shame if you came to your due time before you receive your inheritance," he said.

"Which won't actually save your Elemental pet," she said, walking her fingers up his chest until he caught her wrist, staring at her long and hard. He pressed his thumb against the small bones, felt them shift, applied pressure with his thumb between the tendons and twisted it downward. The crack of bone was gratifying.

Not that she cried out or otherwise gave any acknowledgement of pain. He didn't expect it.

"Bones can be reset," she said. "I think it will be somewhat more difficult to reset your pet's...mind and body. They seem to have become disconnected."

"You're so sure I won't kill you."

"Not really. I'm only wondering why you haven't already," she said.

Riddick smiled and drew his other arm back. She stared at him, her eyes going wider, lips parting before she looked down to see blood falling to the floor between them in a steady thin stream. "The problem with being unable to feel," he said quietly. "Is that you might not feel a fatal wound in time to do anything about it."

He let go of her wrist and stepped back, watching as blood continued to flow along the inside of her thigh. She would have launched herself at him only Vaako caught her arms, held her in place.

Her screams, when they started, bothered him less than Brian's ever had.

"Toal..." he said coldly. "Unless you want to join her...you will clear the upper levels. Follow me to the edge of Threshold and you can have whatever comes after."

Toal looked startled and confused. "Yes, My Lord," he said, and turned to bark orders.

"Vaako," Riddick said.

He looked up. Zelia had collapsed, Vaako's arms around her. He made no attempt to stop the flow of blood, nor let her try and staunch it. "Riddick," he said flatly. There was anger there, but Riddick wasn't entirely sure it was aimed at him. Nor did he care.

"When you're ready, move the Furyans to the launch decks."

"Yes, sir," he said. Zelia had been reduced to moaning, the pooling edge of her blood staining the robe Brian lay on, Riddick crouched and folded the cloth over him.

"Can you fix this?" he asked glancing up at Aereon.

"I...don't know, Riddick. The leads were organic. They've been part of his nervous system, his neural net since he was a child," she said crouching near Brian's head. She reached out a hand and Riddick grabbed it, glared at her. She pulled her hand back. "The odds are high that he's aware of what's happened to him. Human beings are extremely resilient," she said carefully. "It's possible, that in time, he can recover, or relearn--"

Riddick stopped listening and pulled Brian to him. He was an awkward burden, limbs flopping. Riddick was careful with his neck. "So, he exists mainly in his head," he said with a grunt as he shifted the dead weight in his arms. Brian wasn't light.

"Yes. For now. He'll need to be fed, provided fluids -- a medical facility or --"

"I don't think there's one close by," Riddick said and started out of the chamber. Aereon hesitated then followed him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

He ignored her. Necromongers stepped back, opening a path for him.

"Riddick?" she called.

"The lesser of two evils, Aereon," he said. "I'd get on that frigate, if I were you."

Part 18

His own aides looked surprised to see him, but were even less inclined than Toal or Scales to challenge him.

The chamber itself was larger, unadorned, dark. The previous Lord Marshall had collected quite a library, both chipped and real books. So, conquest wasn't the only point to their advance. Or maybe Zhyrlaw had been as much of a freak as Riddick.

He supposed by Necromonger standards the suite was luxurious. He'd spent as little time as possible here despite the comforts. He wasn't used to them, had little use for them.

Now, he could take a shower. If the end of the world was coming, clean clothes seemed like a good idea. He made sure his aides understood that he was not to be disturbed until they reached the Threshold and then sent them out of the chamber.

The bed was firm and Riddick could deceive himself into thinking that Brian was only sleeping, for a few moments at a time anyway. He settled next to him, and drew a breath, carefully pushed his fingers through the thick curls. "I don't even know if you can feel this," he said, half to himself. "Or if it hurts you."

There was a thought, that his mere touch could cause pain. Maybe not so much of a stretch. Once he'd thought that letting people get to close could end badly -- for them. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind. "Reduce lights," he said to the room controls and the lights powered down, leaving him in near darkness.

Brian was a dim, warm glow in the darkness. Riddick laid his hand on his chest to feel the pulse of his heart, watch his chest rise and fall. There was no significant increase in heat, no sudden wash of the sluggish dull heat that right now, Riddick would welcome.

He stretched out beside him. Are you there at all? He wondered but didn't remove his palm.

The hand print on Brian's chest flared, but not as brightly, a mere trace of imagery on his skin, then it faded.

Riddick pressed more firmly. He'd managed to perform minor miracles on torn tissue, how much harder could this be?

The only thing that grew warmer was Brian's flesh directly beneath his hand. Waking the nearly dead Furyans seemed to have expended what power he'd gained. Or maybe Shirah was just being peevish.

"'Honey, I've got a headache', would be better than the cold shoulder, Brian," he said. Apparently Brian had lost his sense of humor as well.

His touch didn't seem to hurt him, and Riddick leaned over, pressed his lips to the cool forehead, then to the warmer lips, before drawing back. A light draft washed over his shoulders and his back and he sat up.

"Voyeurism another little quirk elementals have been hiding, Aereon?" he said into the darkness.

"I suppose it would be asking too much for you to believe that I regret this," she said. She didn't come close, only settled on the far side f the room, studying the spines of bound book. She washed in and out of view but Riddick only caught her with his peripheral vision.

"How's the balance of the universe, now?" he asked.

"Falling closer to darkness," she said. "It's rare that the cost to one is levied against so many." She was moving around the edges of the room.

"If you're trying to appeal to my conscience, you should know better by now," he said and caught Brian's hand, tracing his thumb over the bandage there. "I should have learned that with Kyra. Maybe I belong with the Necromongers more than I realized."

"Because you deal death? Because it follows you? Death only follows the living, Riddick. Rebirth as well. But the dead only travel one way." She settled at the end of the bed, solidified. "When my people were first brought to this world, we could make no sense of it. It all seemed so random, so uncontrolled, so very, very chaotic. We all went a little mad, I think. But though I can still long for the order the UnderVerse offers, I think it would make no more sense to me now. The perfect balance exists between the two."

"Are you trying to tell me something, Aereon, or is this just a particularly cryptic apology?"

"How did you know when to strike the Lord Marshall?" she asked.

Her questions made his head hurt. It was better than the ache in his chest though, the hollow feeling in his stomach that he'd tried to tell himself was hunger. Riddick lifted his chin. "I didn't. I just stopped looking for him where he was."

"Hmm...then perhaps you should stop looking for answers where you are."

"Oh, that's helpful."

"It may be. What part of your life would you undo? Should we have left you and your people, few though you were, to die? Would you have failed to steal food as a child? Not defended yourself, the first time someone tried to take your life? Left Jack and Imam to die? Death has followed you from the moment of your birth. It follows every human. But in my world, Death leads the way and we follow. Spirit to life, life to spirit. No one living has ever crossed the Threshold and returned as they left." She got to her feet.

"Aereon. if the dead go through, what happens to them?"

"I don't know." She said quietly. "Returning from the dead is something not easily done. I would think there would need to be some...compelling reason."

The door to his chamber opened and closed again.

Riddick stared into the darkness for a long time and then closed his eyes.

No answers came to him in his dreams and he woke to a shudder within the ship, the sudden feeling of displacement. He was on his feet before his aides came to tell him they had arrived.

"My Lord Vaako awaits you in the command center, my lord," one of them said. "To contact the Guardian of the Gate."

"Is he?" Riddick said. "Find a robe, clothes for him," he said indicating Brian. "And bring him to me -- carefully. Treat him gently," he said.

"As you wish, my lord."

The Necropolis had been cleaned -- mostly. Bodies moved away, the floors and walls hosed down; there were still damp spots. That would have taken a lot of hydro mix.

"I thought you'd be with the frigates," Riddick said as he entered. Vaako looked up.

"They're secured, loaded. The Furyans are aboard...with their dead. They insisted."

"Their dead? Your dead. Our dead...having a little identity crisis, Vaako?"

He actually smiled. "I would see you through this to the end, my Lord. My own dead have been settled," he said, sounding a little more brittle.

Time for me to settle my own, Riddick thought. "Where are the other ships of the fleet?"

"Either still in transit or past us...we've scanned for the Allied ship but it hasn't shown on sensors yet."

"Maybe they stepped for a burger," Riddick muttered. "And Threshold?"

"Awaits us," Vaako said and signaled for the huge screen to be opened.

Riddick had to shield his eyes. The Sentinel beacon hovered off the forward bow, a huge floating obelisk like a dark scar across a roiling line of turbulence -- the rift.

He wanted to look away. It was like a wound, festering, bubbling with infection, angry with streaks of red and gold. All diffractions, illusions, distortions in the fabric of space. A line of fire that looked like it might devour the universe.

It was disturbingly beautiful.

"Custom would have us approach aftward," Vaako said quietly. "Your own transport will take you -- and your aides to the Sentinel, from there you gain access to the Threshold, when it opens."

"Do what needs to be done," Riddick said and turned away, his eyes burning. "And Aereon is around here somewhere. I'd put her in contact with the Allied ship if it comes."

It took time for a ship as big as the Basilica to be turned around, and Riddick found himself observing the Necromongers. For a people that showed no fear in battle, the approach made most of them extremely nervous.

Not that a spatial rift was easy to maneuver.

It was time enough for Riddick's aides to bring him spare goggles. Enough time for Brian to be placed carefully into the transport. He sent his aides scurrying to find is own pack and checked his stores. Fingered his weapons, the tools of his trade. Took only what he could carry easily.

Riddick let Vaako sort out who would go and who would remain.

He was unsurprised when Aereon found a way onto the transport. "I thought you couldn't go back."

"I'd rather be looking at my home than the inside of a frigate if you plan to end this all."

"Not going to try and stop me?"

"To what end, Riddick? If the Necromongers are not destroyed, we've simply delayed the inevitable. If the Threshold is closed forever, I doubt seriously that a few frigates will be able to outrun the fury of several thousand Necromongers denied their place in paradise."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," he said. "That sounds about right."

"Do you have any idea what you are doing?"

"Not a clue. Maybe I'll walk into that and get religion. Wouldn't that be irony of cosmic proportions?" he said. "I have an answer for you though."

She laughed softly. "To which question?"

"What I'd undo." he said and looked at her. "I'd never have left Jack behind on Helion Prime. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything."

"And maybe it would have changed the entire universe?"

"Maybe," he said thoughtfully. "I try never to make the same mistake twice."

She looked down. "I have things I would undo as well."

"You're going to tell me, aren't you?"

She smiled. "Yes. I should have killed Dame Vaako when I first met her."

Not what he was expecting. But then again, no Elemental he'd ever known ever had been what he expected.

All two of them.

"Will you name a successor?" Vaako asked him when they were underway.

"Yeah, just before I cross," he said, glancing around at the commanders assembled, the greater commanders, a few crewman. All watching him. He didn't know what they hoped for.

They'd left Brian on one of the low benches. Dressed him in a dark robe. He looked more like a corpse than ever. And yet his heart still beat, his lungs still filled. Riddick fisted his hand on his chest and remained beside him during the crossing.

The landing was rough, a-gravs kicking in too late, enough to make the ship bounce, but he could hear the whine of the stabilizers. More turbulence closer to the rift he supposed. Made him wonder how the Sentinel marker remained in place. Where do you cast your anchor when the universe keeps shifting around you?.

The stretcher Brian lay on was makeshift but functional, Riddick made sure the commanders had a firm grip before leading the way down the ramp.

The housing of the Sentinel rose like a conquest icon, maybe had been the inspiration for them, the four faces staring blankly into the void.

"Should I have brought a present?" Riddick as Vaako as they approached.

The entire platform was a shield generator, he realized. Not so much structural as an energy field, one long arm extending deep into the rift. The whole structure shifted and rippled and Riddick stared upward. The top of the icon, the obelisk itself seemed to fade and waver, then shifted back into view.

The hall itself was smaller: the doors stood open always, Riddick realized, and beyond the shimmering floor, another doorway stood open. In the center of the chamber was a dais, but no throne resided there, only a platform.

Beyond the second door the long arm of the platform stretched far outward. A glistening canopy overhead -- the arching of more shielding providing and trapping air. It looked like oily water swirling in the middle of nothing. It would take days to reach the edge of the rift if they walked it.

"Maybe we should have brought trucks."

"It's an illusion...or rather," Aereon murmured. "A distortion. The rift is not a fixed thing. Nor is this Sentinel except in relation to it."

"Are there magic words I need to say?" he asked, but no one answered him. Riddick mounted the steps of the dais.

The platform was a familiar one, the same inset pattern. Initial resistance to the mind probing his own was automatic but he swallowed.

"Riddick." A whisper. Those waiting below didn't move. They couldn't hear it.

"Lord Marshall," a second whisper, sexless, rough as sandpaper on his brain.

"Purpose."

No one told him there would be a pop quiz. "I come to bury my dead," he said.

"Settle your past..."

"Yes."

"The living cannot pass."

It wasn't even a warning, but a statement of fact. Riddick let go of the tight hold he had on the edges of his mind.

The voices in his head faded.

He almost dropped to his knees and when he moved his legs felt rubbery.

Maybe the Greater Quasi-Dead that held this station needed a vacation. He'd expected worse. Or maybe he'd convinced them with his sincerity.

Yeah, right.

He moved toward the second set of doors, half expecting to be stopped.

"Vaako," he murmured and handed him his pack, then he knelt by Brian, studied him for a long moment before reaching out to catch his arm, pulling him up and over his shoulder. He looked at the commanders, all waiting. "If I fall. Lord Vaako will take my place. Witness."

They murmured assent but it sat uneasily. Still the voices whispered through all of them, repeating Vaako's name.

"Walk with me," Riddick said and started through the doors. Vaako hesitated and followed. Aereon faded as well but he could feel her on his skin. The air shimmered around her.

"Yet another unconverted to lead them," Vaako said.

Riddick still expected someone, something to stop them, but his feet landed solidly on nothingness. He only glanced down once and looked up quickly -- a sense of vertigo such as he wasn't used to feeling taking him. Brian was a solid weight on his shoulder. Even Vaako seemed less than substantial.

"You're closer to converted than I am..."

"To stop them."

"To guide them," Riddick said. "If you get the chance. Not that I think you will. Maybe when you look beyond this, you'll know."

Another few steps and Riddick stopped, felt the change in the air, if that's what it was, the sense of displacement. Something tugged at his insides. Brian felt lighter against him, less real. A wave washed through him like something was reaching in to pull his insides out, his blood pounded faster in his veins.

Threshold.

Swallowing , Riddick eased Brian down, blinked when he seemed to fade. Riddick could have sworn his hand sank into Brian's chest but when he looked again, it only rested there. He got up reluctantly, like if he weren't touching Brian, he might disappear.

He turned to Vaako and took his bag back, pulled out the short gun. "When I step through, you use this."

Vaako stared at him and took the weapon. "The living cannot pass."

"That's what they say." He pulled his goggles off, closed his eyes against the crackling energy he saw all around him. His own hands were dark though, darkness against all that light.

"Every other Lord Marshall has risen again," Vaako said.

"In which case, you might be out of a job," Riddick said and crouched again, getting his arm under Brain's thighs and neck, to cradle him close. He hadn't imagined it. Brian was lighter, almost insubstantial.

Vaako watched him then inclined his head. "My Lord Riddick."

"If I never hear that title again, I'll die a happy man," Riddick said.

"It's possible that generations from now will make up ridiculously romantic songs about you," Aereon said. "A man playing with his own destiny."

"No. just making choices," Riddick said. "Everyone should have them. Anything profound you want to tell me?"

She smiled at him. "I never lifted the bounty on your head," she said and vanished.

Riddick smiled and turned to face the slithering darkness ahead of him. "I always did like being a tough one to collect on," he murmured and shifted Brian a little closer, pressed his lips to the cold mouth. "Hope you can handle this, Brian," he said. He closed his eyes and stepped through.

He hadn't really expected to hear the shot, hadn't expected to feel much of anything, but it ripped through his back, sent pain racing up his spine, through his arms and tore through his belly. He automatically grabbed for anything to hold onto and could only grasp the body in his arms. Then he was falling.

And the universe fell with him.

Part 19

He didn't actually think the universe would fall on top of him, but that's pretty much what it felt like. One big mother fucker of a hammer slamming down on him like he could somehow plug a hole without shattering into a pulp of blood and flesh.

God of the screaming martyrs, no wonder the Necromongers denied themselves pain if this was what being in the UnderVerse felt like.

"And now you know why nothing living ever enters the UnderVerse."

Aereon. "Now I know I'm in hell."

That he actually had a voice was a little surprising.

"Penance for your sins," she said.

Am I blind again? He asked because there was nothing before his eyes at all. No one answered either. He hadn't spoken aloud. He wasn't even sure his eyes were open.

He blinked. Saw nothing and did it again, then brought his hands to his eyes and felt his goggles. Found his face, which more or less felt like he thought it should. And he was laying on something -- something hard and cool, like metal or stone. But he shouldn't be.

His hands were empty. His arms. There was no press of another body to his and he swallowed, tasted blood and salt.

He hadn't meant to let go. Shouldn't have been able to. The tangler Vaako had struck him with should have wrapped around them both, held them together no matter what.

And if that half of the plan had failed, the chances were the other half hadn't worked either. He pushed his goggles up and felt grit and moisture and more grit in his eyes. The crud had sealed his eyelids shut better than glue. He thumbed it away and tried to open them again and this time was rewarded by a shallow, barely illuminated palate of color. The sky overhead -- if it was sky -- was a pale orange, like embers or coals, a dying fire, punctuated by a million dark points; some near black, some seemed more reddish.

A starfield or sorts, he guessed. Polished eyes didn't seem to be of any help in seeing details, not here.

If this was the UnderVerse, he was underwhelmed.

He put his hands down and felt something solid and forced himself up, to look around.

Only he hadn't been laying down at all, but had his back to a towering obelisk. He gripped the slick sides of it but there was nothing to grab onto, not really.

His equilibrium, his sense of direction was shot to hell, and he slid down, crouching and closed his eyes again. Dropped a hand between his knees and felt something solid under his feet. That helped. A hand behind him oriented him further and he dared to look again.

Very carefully he stood up, eyes fixed on a single point about five meters in front of him.

He let out the breath he'd been holding and shifted his gaze outward.

Ahead of him the oddly pale horizon shimmered, behind him…

The Basilica hung in space, shimmered through the veil of the Threshold. The obelisk behind him was the tower of the Sentinel, but it hadn't been so close to the Threshold had it? And the long broad platform they had crossed -- hadn't he reached the end of it?

He'd fallen. He'd fallen and hit bottom.

Only space had no bottom and there were no convenient ships or planets lurking below the platform.

Now he wasn't sure he'd even crossed the Threshold at all.

And where the fuck was Brian?

He pulled his hand from the reassuring solidity of the obelisk and started walking. Every step he took made the landscape -- spacescape -- seem less strange. The platform still seemed to extend into infinity even when he angled to where the edge should be. He could never reach it. The very edge was an illusion.

"Not so much illusion as simply your mind making sense of what your senses tell you." He couldn't see her but he felt her there, beside him.

"I thought you couldn’t come back here?"

"Riddick, you don’t even know where 'here' is," she said.

He stopped. "So make it make sense."

"What did you expect?"

"I have no idea."

"Hence your difficulty in making any of it make sense."

"Where's Brian?"

"Where you left him -- or not left. He is where you would expect him to be. It's you that aren't where you expected to be."

"You're not really helping."

She didn't answer. Riddick kept walking. He wasn't sure how long, or how far until he looked back and nothing had changed. The obelisk was no further behind him, the Basilica still hung there, waiting.

He turned around and headed back.

Which, after, maybe a thousand heartbeats seemed to make no difference. So he started running, until his legs ached and his chest heaved, and he was no closer and no further than he had been.

He bent over, hands on his thighs, sucking in air until his heart stopped pounding. He was well and truly trapped. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and straightened up.

Caught between…

What the hell had he expected? He wasn't sure he believed either the Necromonger descriptions of the UnderVerse or Aereon's. Order versus Chaos. The grand mistake that was life as he knew it, or the orderly progression of …what?

The Lord Marshall had straddled both worlds, but he'd been what? Changed, converted, able to occupy both realms at the same time. Able to reach from one to another to pull the soul out of the poor bastard from Helion Prime. That little magic trick had sent the entire hall to their knees. All but Riddick. He hadn't believed it then; he didn't now.

The living cannot pass. But he damn well had. Or... he was dead. Except he wasn't sure how. Tanglers were painful, but rarely fatal unless something else -- a bigger injury or taking a long fall onto a hard surface -- interfered.

Which could have happened but wouldn't he still be tangled?

Unless he was his own ghost. Now that would be irony, doomed to haunt himself. Great. He didn't mind his own company but an eternity of it? That would be a little much for anyone, even him.

"I'm going to drive myself crazy."

What did he expect? That he'd walk through and see a vast civilization, cities where the dead walked freely? Did he expect to see Kyra or Shirah, or -- even Dame Vaako? Maybe even Brian -- on his feet, laughing, smiling…

No, he expected that saving the universe again might get him a little bit of a break on the massive cluster fuck his life had become.

"Is that really what you expected, Riddick?"

"I don't know," he said and eased down, sitting again. "I'm not sure I wanted anything for myself."

He pulled the goggles off his head and looked at them, brushed dust and dirt from the lenses, noted a tear in the strapping that he probably needed to fix. He dropped them in his lap, then stretched out, folding his arms under his head and drawing a knee up. When in doubt, sleep.

The pale orange sky was something to focus on. There were constellations he didn't recognize. It was like looking at a perpetual sunset. It made his eyes ache and burn.

Figured he'd end up in a prison again.

"Excellent analogy," Aereon murmured. "It's very much like a slam you can't escape from. It's with you always."

"Why are you in my head? If I'm going to talk to myself, I think I could come up with someone better."

She laughed. He heard her, felt her heat against his upraised leg.

She looked different, no longer in robes that shimmered and twisted in the slightest breeze. Pale blue and silver, with a touch of gold. Like a sky after a rainstorm.

"That's a very flattering image, Riddick. Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, are you really here?"

"As much as you are."

"You're still not helping."

"I've told you everything you need to know. Everything you can understand. And when you understand, you'll see."

Her voice had changed and Riddick sat up, staring at Shirah. The Shirah of his dreams, not the woman he'd killed.

"This is all in my head."

"Much of it, yes," Shirah said. "The Guardians told you, you'd have to settle your past."

"You told me that. What? I have to apologize to everyone I killed? I could be here awhile."

"Your past, Riddick. Not mine. Not…your ghosts. In your world, the world I remember, life proceeds and death--"

"Follows."

"Always."

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he was alone.

It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. Ghosts or not, in his mind or not, it was different being alone here.

A slam he couldn't escape. Like he couldn't escape himself.

He pulled his blade, tested the edge of it against his thumb and tasted the blood that welled. Real or just memory?

Life precedes death. Except in the UnderVerse where death seemed to be the beginning or everything. So the Necromongers thought.

They'd been looking for something better. Renounced pain so they couldn't feel, renounced life so that death would be the reward rather than something to resist with every breath.

He'd expected…different somehow. Something big enough, amazing enough, for an entire culture to have been formed around trying to attain it. They'd put entire systems to the sword in order to make way for this…for something different.

Better maybe.

For himself. Maybe he wasn't so different. The Furyans were no different than the Necromongers, life no different than death -- it was all part of the same thing.

"So I told you," Aereon said and she stood beside him as he remembered her.

"You still can't be here."

"I'm not. You know the answer, Riddick. It's not so much that Covu the Enlightened saw something different or even imagined it. Like you, his mind ordered what he was looking for without knowing. Peace maybe. For himself. For his dead. They tortured him beyond the ability to feel pain. And if you can't feel pain…then you can't feel…"

"--when your life is over."

"Yes. It's a fallacy of many religions, that the soul and body occupy one consciousness in the same place, at the same time."

The Lord Marshall hadn't pulled that soul out of the body, he'd reached across and pulled it in.

"That's not something I'd think of myself."

"Isn't it? Isn't that why you carried Brian to the Threshold? Mind and body....soul. You had two, but not all three. But you thought perhaps you could change that?"

"I didn't know. Did it work?"

She smiled. "Rather better than I expected. But…the living and the dead cannot occupy the same place…"

"…at the same time. This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Great. So what do I do?"

She faced him. "Settle your past. Not all pain…is physical, Rididck. What you've lost, you must feel."

She was gone.

What he'd lost…it wasn't hard to summon it, but he shied away from it. He always had. Recently, most recently…to realize that Brian, who he barely knew but already felt bound to, had given up something Riddick never wanted. Sacrificed himself for him. He could acknowledge that was what happened, but to feel that… Again. It had been easier to jump off the edge of a cliff, to be hit by a tangler web than to face it. And Vaako, who no matter what he'd been or done, had still, even in the twisted realm of a half life, loved a woman Riddick had killed. Had it been him, Vaako would have bled out with her. Kyra's death had given him the strength to take on the Lord Marshall: not his Furayn ancestry, not his own rage, only the need to fill the loss of her with something else. Imam too, who had risked so much -- risked his family, his child, his life and been willing to do so.

He found his own blades in his hand, ready to cut his palms, his arms, to feel that physical pain rather than deal with the empty places that had been cut into him by other lives. Empty places he'd filled with anger and vengeance and more blood. He and Shirah were not so different. Even her loss -- easier to kill her than acknowledge that her own losses were enough to drive her mad. She may well have saved more than her own people by reaching across years and time and space to reach him.

Fry…so unexpected and so unfair. Another who had died for him, instead of him. It only proved to Riddick that fairness in the universe was a fool's expectation. He'd learned it young, had it imprinted on him from his first breath. The loss of his own innocence -- and the life of the one who'd taken it by force. The loss of faith in any who would befriend him. He expected to be betrayed and he was, until betraying him became a death sentence of its own.

Physical pain was easier. Physical pain could be dealt with, could be ignored, or used like any tool.

Caring made you weak, it ended badly, it wasn't worth the effort. It made you human, which was something Riddick had long ago ceased aspiring to be. Better to be a monster than have to deal with what millions did everyday.

Only he hadn't. He'd never meant to save the universe, only to save Kyra, and he'd failed. He'd meant to save Brian or so he thought, but maybe it was easier to throw himself into the void than admit how the loss of him had nearly crippled him.

This pain was like the hunger in his belly he'd known as a child, the empty places screaming to be filled. This was seeing faith and trust in the eyes of Imam's child. He'd saved her father once without knowing her, but now she'd know that emptiness her whole life. But she'd survive it. Zeza was stronger than he was.

Aereon was right, this pain would rend him in half, tear the flesh from his bones, rip the sight from his eyes, and leave him bloodied.

It would make him whole.

He'd have to give up his soul to do it.

For the first time in his life, Riddick surrendered.

Part 20

His stomach rumbled, hunger making itself known but not clawing at him. His body was seriously unhappy with him. Habit kept him still, kept him from moving a finger or even taking a deeper breath.

The air on his skin was fresh, not ship air. Right now it was tinged with smoke, something sweet smelling; a fruit wood. The sound of fabric flapping was overhead, shifting patterns of light stroking over his face and eyes. Beneath him was something solid, but a padding too. Not much, but enough to feel it, to keep the damp stone from chilling his skin.

He moved a finger, on his left side, furthest away from the sounds he heard, and felt the cloth pad. The texture was rough but not coarse. He could feel the skin of his own thigh.

Something blocked the light on his face and he went still again. A heavier weight settled beside him and warm hands rubbed up his arm, flexed his elbow. Something metallic was wrapped around his forearm and he almost pulled back: it felt like a restraint, but his hand was free. There was the tiny prick of a needle along his inner arm. The body beside his own leaned forward and picked something up, then settled back.

Sipped at something and swallowed. It smelled like coffee.

His mouth was suddenly very dry.

A hand stroked along his shoulder then his companion got up. Something was stirred in metal pot.

He cracked his eyes open carefully, only a slit. It was bright, but not painfully so. A heavy drape of cloth overhead blocked most of his view of the sky, protected his eyes.

Blue sky, not ungodly orange. He shifted his gaze to see the IV clamp on his arm. Two lines: One clear, one slightly yellowish in color. Fluids. Nutrient feed.

Well, if he was still dead someone was wasting perfectly good food. Another surreptitious glance revealed that he was covered with a light blanket. He could feel the fibers on his bare skin, over his chest, his hips, legs. He felt clean if slightly warm.

He shifted his gaze again to see a wall, the stone old, mold growing in the cracks, the top part of the wall shattered but solid enough to hold up the canopy. Movement again and he closed his eyes almost entirely, caught the edge of heat trace. Saw the rise of a pale, smooth-skinned back. Sand-colored trousers hugged lean legs and hips. Faint scars laced the muscles; they'd faded almost to white, ribs visible when he twisted. The sun washed hair covered the back of his neck almost to his shoulders. It was loose and shaggy. He turned his head slightly to reach for something. Another fading scar marred the hard bone of his cheek.

Riddick squeezed his eyes shut. If this was still a dream, if this were more mind tricks of the UnderVerse, he'd hunt Aereon down and kill her on both sides of the rift.

And if it wasn't…He wasn't sure he could do this a second time.

He opened his eyes again.

Brian was looking at him. Lips parted, a frown marring his face as he stared. It eased a second later and he moved toward Riddick. Sat back down beside him and reached out a hand to rub his palm across Riddick's jaw then lift his head a little. A cup was pressed to his lips.

"It's only water," Brian said, voice reassuring and calm but rough and hoarse all the same.

Riddick drank. Let the water rest in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Cool, not cold. Clean, not laced. He took another sip and felt Brian's thumb on his throat, stroking lightly.

"Where?"

He wasn't sure any sound came out at all. His voice felt rusty, more air than sound.

Brian helped him drink again. Riddick would have done it himself but other than flexing his fingers, every movement was difficult, like something was pressing him down.

"Furya…well, what's left of it," Brian said. "You with me for good this time, Riddick?"

"I'm not even sure I'm with me." He still sounded like a frog with its throat cut.

Brian smiled. Riddick would have liked to return it but he closed his eyes instead.

The next time he woke, Brian was stretched out beside him, asleep. On hand rested on Riddick's chest, palm flat, fingers spread. It was darker, cooler. The canopy overhead didn't move. The IV clamp was gone. Riddick made himself lift his arm, which hurt; made his muscles feel weak and his bones ache. But his hand closed around Brian's wrist. He woke up immediately. Pushed himself up on one arm and blinked at Riddick sleepily. "Pain?" he asked.

There was some -- aches mostly. One in particular. "Hungry," he said.

"That I can fix," Brian said and got up, Riddick held onto his hand, but his grip was weak. Brian didn't try to pull away.

"Is this real?"

"Real enough," Brian said. Hesu, he sounded like Aereon.

"I thought you were dead."

Brian dropped his gaze and turned his hand over, catching Riddick's. He squeezed it gently. "I think I was." He pulled his hand away and laid it beside Riddick's head. Leaned over.

The touch of his lips felt real enough; the warmth and taste of them. Moving his jaw didn't require nearly as much work as moving his arm but then again, Brian was doing most of the work. When he pulled back his lips were wet and there was color in his cheeks. His eyes were glitter bright. He smiled again. "Still hungry?"

Smart ass. Riddick nodded and Brian moved over him, stirred up the fire again. And Riddick turned his head to watch him.

He didn’t move as easily as Riddick remembered, not with quick grace. The hesitations were small, the trembling almost unnoticeable. Riddick watch him press his arm accidentally to the edge of the pot of whatever he was warming. It took Brian a few seconds longer to realize he'd burned himself.

When he returned, he added more blankets to the pile behind Riddick's back to get him more upright, and tucked the blanket lower around his waist. Riddick tried to help and found himself weaker than he had ever been. Even trying to hold the spoon was difficult. Brian didn't offer to feed him, only transferred the broth to a cup and helped him hold that.

The soup was definitely laced with something beyond whatever Brian had cooked. Riddick still hated the taste but supposed he wasn't really in a position to complain. He studied Brian's hands and arms, found more small burns, cuts. Maybe what he'd find on a tradesman or farmer, but not on the hands of a man who was doing little else but playing housekeeper in the shell of a ruined settlement. He found himself stroking over a half healed burn on the inside of Brian's wrist. It had been nasty when it had happened, would leave a scar, but it was days, maybe weeks old already.

Brian pulled the cup away and set it aside. Covered Riddick's fingers with his own. "It's better."

"Better?"

"Than not feeling at all."

Riddick still wasn't so sure. "Should I ask?"

Brian bit his lower lip. "Since I don't know where to start…"

Riddick didn't say anything. "We've been here, a little over a month," Brian said finally. "A couple of weeks on Helion Prime before that."

"The Necros…"

Brian's smile was a little wry. "Still there. Out there. Looks like there is a schism in the Church of the Undead."

"Vaako."

Brian nodded. "He said it's your fault, by the way. But…he's got the Necropolis, a little over half the fleet. Most of the Furyans who remain are with him," he said. Brian took a breath and let it out slowly. "The rift is closed. The area is still being monitored…but…"

"What happened?" Riddick asked.

"I'm not sure… I wasn't there. Entirely," Brian said. "Only what the others saw. That you -- we -- stepped through. Vaako didn't miss -- that was amazingly stupid, you know," he said a little fiercely.

"So was trying to sneak into enemy territory to open a fucking door," Riddick said evenly. "The rift?"

"The platform became unstable. Vaako…went through. He came back with us. Loaded everyone back on the transport and got the hell out of there. They say the entire platform got sucked through the Threshold. It almost pulled the Basilica in with it. I guess they weren't really ready to die. Vaako used that to…recruit. That the UnderVerse had rejected the Necromongers as unworthy. Those that wouldn't agree, he pretty much tossed overboard. The rest of the fleet…they're likely to cause problems for awhile."

"And the Furyans stayed."

"Pretty much. A few came back with us…a very few."

"You said Vaako crossed the Threshold?"

Brian nodded.

And what had he seen? Riddick wondered. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask him. "And I've been…"

"Pretty much …alive, but not…" Brian wouldn't look at him directly.

"You brought me here."

"I thought about Tesca but it's still raining. They couldn't do anything for you, really. Fluids, nutrient feeds. But you were," he stopped, met Riddick's gaze. "I didn't think you'd want to die in a med center on Helion Prime. They weren't doing anything for you that I couldn't do once I was on my feet."

"And they just let you take me. I'm surprised they didn't send me to a slam."

Brian chuckled. "We had a little help. Nice bounty on your head."

"You collected the bounty on my head?"

Brian's teeth flashed. "Think of it as fair trade. You own my slave tags now."

"Do I?"

"Manumission on your death, but it made it easier to pull you out from under the bureaucrats who either think you should be in jail or really hate having to owe you anything."

He should have known Aereon would have a hand in this. He found it easier to reach out this time, rest his hand along Brian's ribs. Ribs he could feel. Brian was too thin but his own body felt a little on the insubstantial side.

"What happened, Riddick?" Brian asked him.

He didn't know how to answer that. He remembered it like he remembered dreams. If he thought too hard about it, it rose like a wave and threatened to send him under again. His fingers tightened on Brian's skin, warm and alive. He'd learned to live with other kinds of pain. Eventually he'd learn to live with this as well.

"Get me up," he said. If Brian was disappointed, he didn't say it.

It was harder than he thought. But the physical pain -- and it was there -- actually helped. He only made it as far as sitting on the edge of the stone platform that made up their bed and that left him trembling and sweating.

"So, we're rich?" he asked when he stopped gasping for breath.

"Well, I am."

"But I own you."

Brian grinned at him.

"You could buy out your slave tag," Riddick offered.

Brian was still smiling when he shook his head. "She made it irrevocable. You can transfer it…" he added more softly.

Aereon really was a bitch. "And she still has the…controls," he said.

Brian's hand slid across his belly below his navel. "One of them is gone…the other. It stopped working. They removed it on Helion Prime."

Riddick pulled his hand away. The scar was small, barely noticeable. There was another on Brian's chest, just to the left of his sternum, curving around his pectoral.

"Gone and you're…"

"Free of them, that at least," Brian said and there was color in his cheeks again. "I'm still…the tangler was still stupid but…" he stopped. "You meant for it to happen."

"I didn't know if it would work." Tanglers overloaded synaptic responses, short circuited nerve endings -- but if there were none to begin with…. "So, everything is working?"

"Getting there," Brian said easily but his smile didn't fade. "I've had a lot free time on my…hands."

"I'll bet you have," Riddick said and he wanted to laugh. It had been a long time since he had and it rose up in his chest, but came out more like a coughing fit. He'd have to practice that too.

It wore him out though and Brian helped him lay back down, got water. "Show me," he said.

Brian stared at him. "You're kidding?"

Riddick smiled, put a hand under his head and cracked his neck a little. "A lot of people died so you could get your rocks off, Brian. I think you owe it to me."

Brian rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at his mouth. He got up and pushed his pants off, folded them up. Settled back down beside him, tucking a leg under him. His dick was soft but already there was blood stirring in his groin. He pulled the blanket off Riddick. "I need a little inspiration."

Riddick smiled wider. He felt only the most nascent stirrings in his own groin. Chances were he'd need to piss in an hour or so.

One of Brian's hands was on his dick, fondling it a little. The other rested on Riddick's stomach. Under the steady stroking of his hand, Brian's dick was already stretching a bit. But even watching him, Riddick's mind had slipped back to his own urges. To piss, to be clean. From Brian's report he'd been on this bed a long time, but he had no soreness beyond being stiff, he was clean, his scalp smooth. He was weak but not entirely incapable of movement. Someone had been taking very good care of him.

Gratitude was its own pain.

Brian's palm circled his thickening cock and he stroked steadily, tugged at his balls. Blood was already filling the lax flesh, filling it out, firming it up, a flush tingeing his skin both in his dick and across his throat. Riddick half wished he'd waited for daylight for this. Brian moved his hand to press down on the padding so he could hold himself up, rocking slightly into his own hand. His eyes were half closed but he was watching Riddick.

Riddick lifted a hand, let his thumb rub over one small, brown nipple. The trembling in his hand was because his muscles were weak, he was sure of it. He pinched the flesh and tugged Brian toward him, smiled when his eyes widened. Brian leaned down.

There was nothing wrong with Riddick's mouth.

He didn't have the strength to hold Brian through it but he could coax him up and over, relax enough to not mind the weight or pressure. And if the warmth in his groin when Brian thrust against him was a need to piss, his body was worse off than he'd thought. Firm flesh raked along his dick, tugged at his pubic hair, poked his belly. He wanted to be able to hold Brian's face, to see more clearly the strain there -- strain without pain. Wanted to be able to taste the very moment Brian crossed his own threshold.

He couldn't taste it but he could feel it, wet warmth on his chest, his stomach. Heard it in Brian's soft moan, in the ragged edge of his breathing. Saw it in the look on his face, the involuntary closing of his eyes when he came on Riddick's stomach and shuddered through his release. He opened his eyes and held himself up on trembling arms, his dick soft and wet against Riddick's own.

He got his breathing under control. Riddick was having a little trouble with his own. "That what you wanted?" Brian finally asked him.

He'd saved up just enough strength to catch the back of Brian's neck and pull him down, let him find his own way to not just collapse. Brian's fingers touched his mouth and Riddick got the taste he'd craved. "No. But it'll do for now," he said and sank his tongue into Brian's mouth.

It would do for now.

Part 21

Riddick had never really craved the sound of another person's voice and he didn't now. He found himself sleeping a lot more than he wanted. He fought it off when he could, gave in to it when he had to, and in between, he forced himself to his feet, to move, and keep moving, like he was chasing the strength that kept eluding him.

Brian only offered assistance when it was necessary, and once Riddick could do for himself, Brian would leave the camp, sometimes for hours at a time. It wasn't a mystery where he went -- most of their food was fresh, not rations. For whatever reason, the Necromongers hadn't destroyed this planet as they had so many others. Cultivated fields had gone wild but there was food to be had there. Brian hunted for the rest.

They often shared the same bed when Brian slept, but Riddick still felt slightly out of place, like the edges of his perceptions had been fucked with -- shimmers and ripples around the edges of his vision that sometimes made him wonder if he wasn't still dreaming. Or maybe even dead and this was his mind constructing a reality he could live with. His sleep came in short bursts.

And when he could sleep no longer, he would rise and wander the ruined settlement, searching for answers he knew he'd probably never get. He was equally unsuccessful chasing the desire that had once put a sharp edge on whatever was between him and Brian. The desire remained, but Riddick held back on acting on it. His response to his own hand was there, but slow, more effort than it was worth mostly. He got more of a surge of feeling watching Brian dress in the mornings.

It hit him a day or so later when they'd walked to a spring nearby to bathe that part of his discomfort was that he had no compelling reason to move on. Isolated Furya might be, but it wasn't like they were hiding at all. There were probably still warrants on his head, but no one was hunting him at the moment. He had no jobs lined up, he wasn’t running…that might all change if he stepped off this planet.

He had the sudden urge to do just that.

He added exercise to his routine, stretching and forcing his muscles to do what he wanted, when he wanted. Brian came back from a hunt one afternoon to find him perched on top of the highest of the ruined walls. Riddick ached like he'd been hit by a plasma blast, but he'd made it, bare handed. He'd fallen a couple of times and there were bruises he'd pay for later but sitting up in top of the wall, staring down at Brian's grinning face made everything feel less dreamlike.

Getting down was far less of an accomplishment and he ended up on his back on the ground with Brian crouching over him showing only mild concern. "If you break something we'll have to head out," Brian warned him.

Riddick grinned and then swept his arm out, dumping Brian on his ass. The additional muscle aches were worth it.

The need to prepare for something also drove him to push himself a little harder, and Brian didn't object to adding a bit of sparring. Someone had taught him well, and Riddick wasn't entirely up to par -- even so, he left his blades behind and they cleared a sizeable area where they could wrestle and fight. Brian's biggest strength was his tenacity. Even still healing, Riddick was faster and far more focused, but if Brian actually got a good grip on him, nothing short of a killing blow would make him let go, and he learned quickly, which didn't surprise Riddick in the least.

But it showed Riddick something else. On his feet or not, able to function like anyone else, Brian wasn't the same. At first Riddick just thought it was the pain threshold he already knew Brian had, but it was more than that. The number of cuts and scrapes and burns hadn't diminished -- Brian's hands would be a scarred mess when they all healed. But during one tussle in close contact, Riddick heard a bone snap and Brian didn't even seem to feel it, didn't register it, until Riddick stopped and caught his wrist, stared at where the first two fingers of his hand were swelling and already turning dark. He pulled on the fingers and felt the tiny bones slide back into place. Brian barely flinched.

"Feast or famine," Brian said to the question Riddick knew was on his face. "From feeling too much to …" he shrugged. "They say it may all come back eventually."

Riddick dropped his hand and stalked away. He wasn't even sure why he was angry, just that it seemed wrong somehow for Brian to be that much closer to the Necromongers than he should be. At some point the debt should be paid for both of them, but that would imply that the universe had suddenly become more fair because of what he'd done.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. Nothing had changed beyond this world, this little sliver of time and space they'd carved for themselves. The universe was just as fucked up as it had ever been.

Brian followed him after a few minutes but stayed back, out of reach. "It's better than not feeling at all," he said.

Riddick stared at him. He wasn't so sure.

Brian looked resolute though. Stubborn even. "I could hear you, you know. Smell you. But when you touched me, kissed me…I didn't know it unless you said something. The last thing I remember was that bitch shoving a pair of forceps in my belly. Everything after made no difference. I couldn't feel it. But I can now, Riddick. It's a little dull, like a knife that needs sharpening, but I can feel."

"Good. I'm happy for you."

Brian didn't stalk off, he just turned away.

Riddick refused to feel bad about it. There were no promises between them and if Brian had expectations, they were his to deal with. Riddick had enough to deal with -- to heal, get back to strength, figure what to do next, where to go. He felt restless and agitated -- more so than he'd ever felt inside a prison cell.

When he dreamed at night, it was always of loss. He thought he'd settled his past out there in whatever limbo he'd been in, but he hadn't. It was still with him -- fresh from the fight and vicious.

Riddick rose before dawn some two weeks after he woke, glanced at Brian. He moved silently, standing beside him, studying the entirely unguarded look of him. The nights were warm and Brian had pushed the blankets down. His skin had gotten browner under the exposure to Furya's sun, his hair lighter. He looked more solid, weight and muscle returning, and for the first time in too long Riddick felt the rush of blood to his groin, remembered acutely what it felt like to press his dick deep into that familiar, firm, warm flesh. And it wouldn't hurt Brian, he wouldn't worry about pain or being careful, could worry less about damage done or wanting something more for someone else than himself.

However ironic a challenge it had been to free Brian from Aereon's influence, he'd accomplished that much. Dame Vaako had…Brian was free, more or less. Free to jack off without pain, father as many little bastards as he could ever want, claim something for himself. And he'd give it back to Riddick without question. Riddick had no doubt at all that if he finished stripping the blankets off, woke Brian, he could have what his dick wanted without even having to say anything. It wouldn't even be gratitude, necessarily. It could just be simple lust…it could have been, should have been.

Only it wasn't. He picked up his knives and went hunting instead.

There was a decent amount of game. Riddick tracked a herd of the little pig creatures for half a day, just to follow them, test his skills, catching glimpses of bigger game elsewhere. He finally made his kill in early afternoon, skinned the small animal and ate it raw beneath a shaded tree that had the scratches of some other beast on its trunk. Maybe if he met one of those he could burn off some energy. When night fell he stayed there, listening, watching the sky darken, amused himself with watching the minute heat traces of smaller animals scurrying through the undergrowth.

They made little rustling sounds amid the dry grasses, stopped whenever a mild breeze rose then moved on. A different breeze roused him from the sleep he'd finally fallen into but he didn't open his eyes.

"I'm never going to be rid of you, am I?"

"Penance for your sins, Riddick." She sounded amused. Riddick sighed and cracked an eye open.

Aereon looked more insubstantial than usual, perched on the arching, exposed roots of the tree Riddick had taken refuge under.

"There has to be a drug I can take to keep from dreaming."

"I'm sure there are. I should be flattered that you seem to summon me whenever you need answers."

"Trust me, it isn't intentional," Riddick said and got up, stretching until his joints cracked.

"I'm rather surprised you aren't back at your camp ravaging my son," she said, which drew a sharp bark of bitter laughter from him.

"You really are a little voyeur, aren't you?" he asked and then stopped. How did she know that? Oh, his dream, his subconscious.

"Riddick, as much as I enjoy your company, I really don't have much time," she said and rose up to face him. "If you want to keep finding reasons to be angry with the whole world, please don't let me stop you. But I promise, it will never hate you back enough for it to matter."

"You don't know what I hate."

"Yes, I do," She said. "You'd rather be Brian. You'd rather not feel at all. Not care. You said it, Riddick…it makes you weak. The problem is, that some people will always see through it, through you. And they'll care no matter what you think or want. Physical pain is bearable."

It was his dream, right? He closed his eyes, rubbed his hands over his face. It didn't banish her.

"Do you know the main difference between the Necromongers and the Furyans?" she asked.

"Do I care?"

"The Furyans, for all their aggression and desire for conquest, still built rather than destroyed. There is a subtle difference between Convert or Fall and Surrender or Die. That ability to build something new is as much a part of you as anything else. Even the ability to rebuild yourself. "

"I was fine like I was."

"Yes. Hunted, feared, your name widely known. Well, some things never change. Even now, your name is on the lips of children in the streets. You're something of a hero. Riddick, the Slayer of Monsters."

"Oh, that's great."

"Easier to be reviled? As the Furyans once were -- the threats mothers used to get their children to behave. Be good or the Furyans will get you. Now it's Necromongers, but the children have something stronger. Faith in a Warrior who conquered even Death."

"I never wanted that."

"Well, it's not often anyone gets what they want," she said, unconcerned. "I suggest you deal with it."

"Fuck you," he snarled and swept his arm out. She didn't move, his arm just passed through her, setting him off balance, but she didn't vanish. He glared at her.

"Why did you give him to me, make him my responsibility?"

"Is that what you think?"

"Don't give me more riddles."

"Kill him, if you like. There's no penalty. He's property. However, if someone else kills him, or injures him, the penalties are quite severe. It's proved quite useful over the years. And if he kills someone…he can't be tried or convicted for it. You don't send the gun or the knife to prison when a murder is committed. And if your hand is not on the weapon of choice, you can't be convicted either."

Riddick stared at her. He didn't know this. And why did he need to?

"He's still a slave."

"Yes. But there are two kinds of slaves, Riddick. Most of those you know are pitiful creatures, illegal actually, because a truly recognized slave of Brian's status is actually quite an expensive proposition. The fees paid to gain that status are rather impressive. And he's a registered member of the Mercenary Guild. Those fees will be due shortly, by the way."

"Why are you telling me this?" How are you telling me this?

"There will be a ship, in a few hours. There are contracts to be signed, arrangements to be made. You've been both hunter and hunted. Which do you prefer?"

"There are still warrants on my head."

"Yes, there are, if anyone is foolish enough to try and collect them. They do preclude your becoming a member of the Guild, unless of course, you find a way to remove those warrants. It will cost you a great deal of money. But Brian is very good. A few years perhaps…"

"That still doesn't explain why you gave him to me."

Aereon studied his face for a long moment. "No one ever gave you Kyra, but she belonged to you nonetheless."

"He's not a dog you can give away."

"No. He's not. But no one else will ever command his loyalty as you do. Irrevocable ownership only means you can't sell him. However, every slave has the option to buy his own freedom. That would require you allowing him to keep what he earns -- so you see, Riddick, if his freedom is more important to you than his happiness -- then you can set him free. It will just take a little time."

"He said he collected the bounty on my head."

"He did." She smiled.

"That's not enough, is it?"

"I'm afraid not. The level of immunity Brian has, that allows him to still do his job, is very costly."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Walk with me," she said and moved without waiting for him, heading back toward the camp.

Riddick almost didn't follow her. This dream was stranger than all the rest.

"In our natural state, Elementals do not procreate as humans do," she said when he finally came up beside her.

"I don’t think I want to know about your love life."

"Love has very little to do with it. Elementals procreate by a process known as twinning. It's very much like cell splitting but there's no actual 'body' involved. It's a separation of self into two distinct selves, sharing common knowledge but able to gain more knowledge independently, yet still connected. When the Elementals were drawn here, into this universe, we discovered we could affect nothing here, without bodies. So, we found suitable ones. Perhaps unfair or unkind of us to occupy lives that had already begun but we had little choice and for some of us, the choice once made, was unbearable, so they sought to separate themselves once more from the bodies they'd occupied. You've met a few."

The Quasi -dead.

"Yes. For those of us who did adjust, we found the process of twinning far more difficult, if not impossible and so we have occupied our hosts rather longer than their lifespans would have allowed otherwise."

He stopped. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Brian is still half Elemental. It's better you understand the nature of who and what he is when you make your decision."

"I know what I need to."

"Do you? Then let me tell you this, Riddick. You cannot lose him. That pain you fear will not come to pass. Not as long as you draw breath. Even if you pay for his freedom."

"That's not--"

She was gone. One minute she was in front of him and then she was gone.

He was at the edge of the camp. The fire had burned low, been banked, a pot of something warming at the edge. Brian was asleep, back to the wall, face exposed by the low light, skin silvered by moonlight.

He wasn't sure he believed her. About any of it.

But he did know truth when he heard it. No so much about the loss, but that there would always be some people who would care no matter what he wanted. He couldn't stop them. He could only stop himself.

He hadn't been doing so well with that in the last few years.

He crouched by the fire, sniffed at the pot. Coffee. Something of a secret vice for Brian, but he'd been willing to share his hoard of the stuff. Riddick poured and sipped. Strong from sitting by the fire so long. He felt eyes on him and looked up. Brian watched him for a long moment then closed his eyes again.

Riddick finished his coffee and rose up, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots, his shirt, setting his knives close beside him on the ground, before peeling off his pants. He didn't need the blanket but he found the edge of it anyway and pulled it back. Brian was bare from the waist up but obviously hadn't been expecting this -- not that he had any reason to.

Or maybe he had, because Riddick found himself being watched again and without a word, Brian reached down, pushed his trousers down and shimmied out of them, then rolled to his stomach.

Okay, so permission if not outright invitation.

Riddick wasn't in a hurry; he was still thinking too hard for one thing, but he let his hands explore Brian's back, the scars old and new, the long line of his spine and the skin still warm from sleep.

There was a whiff of sweat at the nape of Brian's neck, under the hair that had grown long and ragged. Smoke, too, on his skin, in his hair, salt on his skin, but mild. His hips were paler, legs too, the skin firm and flushed.

Brian said nothing and his breathing barely changed at all while Riddick explored the nature of who and what he was.

When Riddick's hand eased between his legs, tracing the crease of his ass, he spread his legs a little further, breath hitching slightly when Riddick's nose, then his tongue touched and tasted him: sweat and musk, the tang of soap caught in the crease of his thigh. He'd bathed earlier, maybe washed their clothes.

Not because he was Riddick's slave, but because it needed to be done. A finger slipped inside found him warm and moist, not entirely ready, but relaxed. Brian shifted his hips a little and Riddick reached beneath him, feeling Brian's dick swelling, filling. It grew firmer under his hand.

He gripped Brian's hip and rolled him to his back. Straddled him, and met his eyes before dropping his head and mouth to the rise of firm flesh at Brian's groin. Brian reached for him but Riddick caught his wrists, pushed them down firmly to his sides and held him there.

Taste and smell, all of it much stronger there, sharp and bright on Riddick's tongue, in his nose. Brian's dick filled his mouth, crowded the back of his throat, twitched against his tongue. Brian's breathing became sharp and fast, his body flexing as he sought both to thrust and hold himself still. His fingers clawed at the bedding beneath Riddick's grip and his chest and neck strained when he lifted his head to watch Riddick slide his lips down his cock.

Taste gave him away. Bitter and salty on his tongue, the texture thin, and Riddick lifted his head, eyes raking the taut body and parted lips -- he didn't even need to look hard to see the flush on Brian's skin. He pulled Brian's hands up and moved forward, pinning them above his head. Knees to either side of Brian's hips, he pulled them together and wrapped one hand around both wrists. The span of his palm wasn't quite wide enough but Brian didn't fight him. The tip of his dick raked against Riddick's stomach, leaving a wet trail of pre-come on his skin.

Lowering himself put his mouth at Brian's shoulder and he licked there, bit the smooth flesh with enough force to make Brian jerk again, then rocked back. Brian's dick pressed to his ass and Riddick had to take a breath, to let him go, guide him.

The pain was more welcome than not, and he tried not to think too much about how long it had been or under what circumstances that he'd had more than a whore's tongue or fingers in his ass. He hadn't always been unwilling to do this, but a high security slam was a lot different than paying for his pleasures. His own erection failed at the pressure and friction, the uncomfortable sense of fullness.

Brian's hand moved, but his hips didn't, and Riddick was all too aware of the trembling in Brian's lower body as he held himself back.

Riddick didn't. The sense of pressure and fullness became less uncomfortable, the strain in his own thighs welcome. He leaned forward slightly and Brian drew a leg up, finding leverage. Riddick pinned his arms again and Brian dug the back of his head into the bedding, lifting his hips, putting power into the thrusts that seared through Riddick like a hot knife driving straight to his groin.

He let Brian do the work, riding the thrusts and only shifting slightly so he could taste the sweat rising on the tanned skin. He heard the cry building in Brian's throat and let his arms go. Brian's fingernails dug into his skin, the pulse in his throat beating strongly, and he twisted slightly; warm, wet heat filling Riddick's ass. Brian all but collapsed, panting harshly, pleasure and release clear in his flushed face, in the ripples that traveled through his muscles, and he stared at Riddick with glazed eyes that looked both sated and confused.

Riddick hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him up, Brian's arms trembled as he tried to support himself. His breath was hot on Riddick's face, his mouth hotter. "Just wanted to see if you could give as well as you take," Riddick said against the kiss swollen lips and eased him back down. He moved backward, palmed his own dick and lifted Brian's legs while he was still trembling.

If there was pain either Brian didn't feel it or he didn't show it; he was limp and pliant as Riddick lifted his legs higher, bent him nearly in half and thrust inside him with one hard jerk of his hips. Brian's fingers curled around his arm, bracing himself, giving Riddick more resistance to push against and he did. The slow burn started in his lower back, rippling outward with every hard, measured thrust, his own breathing became ragged as he drew it out, slowly and deliberately until Brian's hands fell away and he rode the thrusts like there were waves breaking under him.

Waves broke over Riddick as well; the trickle of sweat between his shoulders, on his neck, nearly blinding him. He closed his eyes. He didn't need to see.

One last hard push sent him over, triggered the flood of release from him and he dropped his head, panting through it. He felt Brian's hand on his skin, rubbing his neck, along his shoulders, wherever he could reach. Brian grunted softly when Riddick eased his legs down and just dropped on top of him. He felt lips on the top of his head, smelled his own sweat on Brian's skin.

He moved finally, shifting his weight, welcoming the rough, cool stone at his back. Brian shifted as well, onto his side, his hand resting on Riddick's hip. He couldn't see nearly as well but he was studying Riddick's face, like there were answers there.

Just as well Brian couldn't see them. Riddick found his mouth, searched it for long minutes, then let Brian roll over, fitting himself to his back and burying his nose in the still sweat damp curls.

If he had dreams, he didn’t remember them.

Epilogue

The high atmospheric rumbling woke them both and Brian rolled off the bed first, grabbing Riddick's pants and tossing them to him before pulling on his own. He had the plasma ply rifle in his hands and charged before Riddick had his boots on. "You want this?" Brian asked, low and soft.

"You're the better shot," Riddick grumbled but he did take up a hand ply as well as his knives.

The ship landed too close not to know where their camp was but far enough that the already crumbling buildings didn't do much more than shed dust and gravel with the vibrations. They took nothing but their weapons from the camp and were clear of the settlement before the ship's gull-winged stabilizers folded up.

The ship was older, maybe four or five man crew, sub light. It looked like a piece of crap, cobbled together from a number of late model scout and courier ships. It had been in more than one fire fight.

Riddick felt the tension cling to his spine. Merc ship. Looked like Aereon was wrong. Somebody was foolish enough to come after the warrants.

The underbelly ramp lowered and Riddick tightened his stance when two men and a woman descended. They only carried sidearms. It was almost insulting.

Brian relaxed, eased the safety back on the plasma ply. "It's a Guild ship," he said starting to stand. Riddick grabbed his arm.

"It's a merc ship."

A smile danced on Brian's lips. "Yeah, it is. Mercenary Guild. They aren't hunting…not for bounties anyway. They're administrators. Clerks," he said and stepped out into view.

A ship… in a few hours…contracts…

He followed Brian into the field.

"O'Conner?" An older, balding man called out.

"TL Guerst," Brian greeted him.

"We were instructed to bring you these," he said holding out a packet of data tubes and a reader. "Richard B. Riddick?" he said and Riddick inclined his head carefully. Another set of two tubes was held out to him. "We were commissioned to deliver these. Fees and levies have been paid, but we'll need a retinal signature."

Riddick glared at him and the man had the courtesy to look nervous. If this guy was a merc, he was a piss poor excuse for one.

"Take a DNA stamp?" Brian asked, barely looking up from his own collection of messages.

"W…we can," he said, resetting the signature pad.

Riddick still hesitated.

"Spit on it," Brian encouraged.

"I know what to do," Riddick growled. "I'd like to read over what I've got."

"There's no refusal -- just a delivery fee," Guerst said and then fell silent. Brian turned away but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Riddick glanced at them, his scowl deepening. Brian's ownership papers. But it was just a notification -- the transfer had already been made, logged and sealed, transmitted to all planetary agencies. Brian was his whether he wanted him or not. The second set of data was a summary of fees attendant with his ownership. He managed not to let his jaw drop. Dipping Brian in gold would be less expensive.

He spat on the pad.

"I need time to look over these." Brian wasn't smiling anymore, if anything he looked a little white around the mouth.

"Two are first issue," Guerst said. "I'll need an answer within," he checked his data relay, "an hour. We have supplies…"

"Leave them here," Brian instructed. "I'll have an answer by the time you get done."

"Good enough. Guada Prime did request you specifically, Merc O'Connor."

"I'm flattered," Brian said, but didn't sound like it.

He headed back to camp and Riddick followed him. Brian passed two of the tubes over. "Those are the ones that want an immediate answer."

Riddick glanced at them. "These are merc contracts," he said.

"It's how I make my living. You'll have to approve them," Brian said.

"I do?"

They'd reached the edge of the orchard and Brian reached up and plucked a late fruit from the tree, biting into it. Riddick stole it out of his hand. It was tart and juicy. Brain snagged another.

"You own me. You want me to earn my keep, you'll have to approve the contracts."

"I hate mercs."

Brian's quick smile showed up again. "Well, you could rent me out…wouldn’t pay as much."

Riddick stopped and grabbed his arm, dropping the tubes and his snack. "You lied to me," he said evenly. "You said you couldn't buy your way out of being a slave."

Brian's gaze dropped to his feet. "It would take a lot."

Riddick kicked at the tubes. "How many? Five, six contracts?"

"If I make them…if I don’t spend a single UD, doing it. If I manage to do it before the Guild fees are due...maybe, ten premium contracts. I have two." He pulled away, crouched and picked up the tubes, handed them back to Riddick. "They're pretty standard. Six month premium then they open it up…price will drop unless we buy the extension."

"What does that mean? You have to pay to hunt somebody?"

Brian studied him. "If I want to keep it exclusive, yeah. You bargain down the points from the issuer. In this case the government of Guada Prime. Do you know anything about how mercs operate?"

Riddick glared at him but he studied the tubes again. "Mercs don't really tend to want to talk business with me. Maybe they don't trust me."

"Well, no. You’ve had quite an impact in the annual collection of dues," Brian said wryly. "It is a business, Riddick. Legitimate mercs operate under Guild Law. There are…non-licensed mercs who will do the dirty work for a fee, but it's frowned upon in the Guild. Stiff penalties if you're caught sub-contracting outside the Guild. These are first contracts. Usually political or social criminals. They pay well. If I bring in the target before the initial term expires, I get a premium payout -- or you do. If I miss term but want to hold it exclusively, I can buy back the target on points deducted from the capture fee. If someone else brings them in, I still get the fees…minus a percentage. Most mercs won't touch someone else's prime contract. It doesn’t pay well enough."

Riddick stared at the fees on the first contract. "They pay this much for somebody who embezzled funds?"

Brain smirked. "Government bonds. Yeah. They want the bonds more than him most likely and they want him fast before he can convert them. I love those. Usually, when you find them, they just kind of…give up. No guns, no bloodshed, just a lot of gibbering and apologies."

Riddick checked the second. "His wife. She must be a really good lay," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Minister Lada is infatuated with her. This is the third time she's taken off with somebody -- cook, gardener…housekeeper. It's an easy one," Brian said.

Riddick chewed over them and then handed them back. "Okay. We take those. What about the rest?"

"They're open warrants," Brian said, tucking the tubes into the pouch. "High ticket, but harder. They're optioned -- we can put them on exclusive, or we can buy in, take a percentage, cheaper up front but it doesn’t pay as much on capture. Those are criminals turned over to the Guild from various planetary legal systems. Murders, thieves…escaped convicts," he said more quietly.

"Like me."

Brian nodded, put his hands on his hips and looked away again. "Your warrants are in there. If we buy in on points we can tell if anyone picks up the option," he said quietly.

Interesting. Being an assassin was a whole lot simpler. Get the job, take half the fee, the rest paid on balance when the job was done. Of course it was all considered murder. "The others? We find them, kill them, turn them in for the fees?"

Brian smiled. "We make more money when we bring them in alive," he said carefully. "You know the routine -- the slams are funded based on head count. Dead bodies don't count."

"We don't get to kill them?"

"Well, we could," Brian said, looking at Riddick like he was an idiot child. "Or I could. If you do it, it's murder. If I do it, it's not murder, but there's not much profit."

"No wonder mercs are so bad tempered," Riddick said idly. "Stupid rules."

"Every job has its downsides," Brian said, and started walking again. The morning was warm and he wiped sweat from his face with his arm, shook out tension. Riddick walked as well, slower, looking at the open warrants.

Some were priced higher than others, most recent known information coded into the file. His respect for mercs didn't rise much, but he liked how impersonal it all was.

Brian had coffee brewing when Riddick reached the camp; was already packing things up. Riddick leaned against a wall and watched him. "How much are the dues?" he asked finally.

"Five hundred thousand UDs, this year," Brian said, and glanced up at Riddick's low whistle."It's based on what I've brought in. Ten percent."

"In a year?"

Brian nodded and chuckled. "Of course they've already figured in what I got for you," he said, but the smile didn't last. "It would take a chunk of that to pay them. Aereon…a parting gift," he said.

"Parting? Because she gave you to me. Saddled me with debt I didn't want? I need to talk to her," Riddick said coldly.

Brian met his eyes for a long moment then reached for the coffee pot. "She's dead," he said pouring a cup for himself. His hands shook slightly, but Riddick saw it. He closed the distance, crouched beside Brian and grabbed his wrist, pulling the pot from his hand before he could burn himself. Riddick burned himself instead and swore.

"Dead?"

"It was in the messages I got. Three days ago. On Helion Prime. There's some other things she left. They're in with the supplies."

"She can't be dead," Riddick said. Had he really dreamed her? But no…she'd told him things he couldn't know, didn't know. Things he'd needed to know but didn’t know why.

"She looked tired when we left Helion," Brian said quietly, staring past Riddick's shoulder. "She suggested this. She must have filed everything after we left."

"How do Elementals die?"

Brian looked confused and shrugged. "I...same as anyone. I guess her body gave out. She was…old, Riddick. I only knew one other elemental who ever died, but it was an accident, an explosion. He died like most people do -- no body, no life."

Not exactly true. Riddick got up suddenly. …understand the nature of who and what he is.

Elementals twinned. They had no bodies. Aereon had let her host die. But what happened to the rest of her…was she a ghost? Was that what had visited him last night?"

"Riddick?" Brian sounded alarmed, was on his feet. A breeze picked up and washed over both of them cooling their skin, sending smoke through the air. Brian shimmered, faded -- not paying attention. Riddick stared through him.

He didn't need to know anything about biology or interfering Elementals to guess what it had taken for Aereon to actually give birth to a son who was half Elemental. And what was left of her…

He held up his own hand, stared at it. It remained remarkably, reassuringly solid. And Brian didn't know. Couldn't know.

… a separation of self into two distinct selves,  
sharing common knowledge  
but able to gain more knowledge independently,  
yet still connected…

You can't lose him.

"That crafty old bitch…" he said softly and turned. Voyeuristic, sneaky, infuriating, crafty old woman.

Brian looked uncertain, worried, even though he tried to hide it.

"Do we have a ship?"

"We have the scout…they left it here. But we'll need to load up on hydromix, replace the baby nukes and hemis if you want them."

Riddick moved closer, studied him until Brian lifted his chin, eyes narrowing. His mouth tightened and Riddick caught his neck, tilted his head and eased the tension away with his tongue, his lips, until Brian's hands returned the embrace. He pressed close: strong, firm body, willful and solid.

Riddick pulled away. "You really are going to have to earn your keep, aren't you?"

Brian grinned at him, showing teeth, blue eyes clear. "One way or another."

"So," Riddick said, started helping pack up their camp. "To buy your freedom would take us ten really good contracts and what…five, six years, if we really busted our asses.?"

"About that," Brain said uncertainly. "It has to be paid in full."

Riddick frowned. "We'd have to save money?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I suck at that," Riddick said and picked up the tubes. "These two are easy? Pay well?"

Brian was pulling a shirt on, shouldering his pack. "A couple of months, maybe weeks."

"And this one?" Riddick asked picking up one of the open warrants."Rabe Ivernum…wanted for murder and stealing a ship. I think I know him. Mean son of a bitch. "

Brian looked at it. "Uh, the last know sighting was in Kertak…that's maybe a week at lightspeed if we had it and would cost us fuel, six months elsewise unless we use cryo."

"I hate cryo. We could hop it," Riddick said as they gathered up the rest of the carryables and headed back toward the Guild ship.

"In a two man scout? We'll kill each other before we get there just from boredom," Brian said. "It doesn't pay that well."

"We could start there. Work our way back," Riddick said, and broke into a trot.

It took Brian a minute to catch up with him, but he moved easily, keeping pace with Riddick.

"So we can't kill anybody," Riddick said as the Guild ship came into view.

"No…" Brian said. "But, you know…Ivernum's probably got friends on Kertak. It's not exactly known for its law abiding citizens. Half the open warrants hide there at some point."

"That would seem to be a bad thing, Brian."

"Well, it can be, but you know, it's illegal to interfere with a Guild authorized merc in the execution of a warrant."

"So we could kill his friends…if we had to."

"If we had to." Brian said with a twitch of his lips. He laid a hand on his arm. "It's still six months out, Riddick."

Riddick grunted. "I think we could find ways to occupy ourselves. Upgrade the ship a little."

Brian stared at him and shook his head. "We could convert part of the hold…put in a media terminal…maybe VR if we can find one cheap."

"I was actually thinking of a bigger bed," Riddick said.

He supposed he'd get used to the sound of Brian laughing. Eventually.

~end~

<>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes to follow


	3. Notes on the Mercenary Guild

Notes on the Mercenary Guild:

_I won't even try to quote sources -- some of this comes from playing various incarnations of D &D over the years, I'm sure quite a few books and movies played into it as well. These thoughts are geared for this universe._

Recognized by 90% of the planets within the Commonwealth Alliance and in approximately 25% on non-allied worlds, the Mercenary Guild registers, tracks, and brokers fees for freelance secondary enforcement personnel for both criminal and military needs of its member planets.

Registered Guild members pay an annual due of no more than 10% of their previous membership year's income on contract, and no less than a minimal fee of 100 UDs (Universal Denominations) if they take no contract to maintain their options within the Guild. If a Guild member completes a contract within 40 standard days of their renewal date, a 10% fee will be levied against the contract.

Guild membership provides a brokerage service, listing and administering contracts, both personal and governmental.

 **Government Contracts** can be economic (collection of taxes or fees owed the government), criminal (the capture of convicted or suspected felons who have eluded planetary or allied law enforcement) or military (adjunct to regular military professionals hired for special operations, or hired for more traditional soldier-for-pay options in armed conflicts, be they sanctioned by the government or not.)

 **Personal Contracts** can be executed for any legally binding purpose in which an explicit or implied contract already exists. (Reclamation of stolen property, enforcement of private contracts -- such as marriage and dowry contracts, adjunct searches for personnel (i.e. Guild members can agree to recruit personnel for a specific private venture such as mining or household staff)

The Mercenary Guild does not broker assassination contracts unless they are issued by a Governmental agency and such a request must be non-binding and indemnified.

Criminal retention and re-securement make up the bulk of Guild contracts. Most local planetary governments do not have the budgets or resources to chase felons across multiple systems. Such "open" warrants are made available for all Guild members to access. A Guild member must file an "intent to claim" on an open warrant. There is no cost to file. However, if a Guild member wants to option the open warrant, the member can do so by purchasing "points" on the contract so that some monetary claim can be made against the warrant once it's successfully completed, regardless of who fulfills the contract. Point costs are based on the total payout on a contract at the cost of 1/10th of 1 percent per point of the net worth of the contract up to half the payout amount. (i.e. if a Guild member purchases 10 points, they will receive 10% of the fee regardless of who brings the contract in.)

Alternately, Guild members can file an "Exclusive" right to an open contract for up to 90% of the contract's worth at higher price per point. This is rarely suggested on anything but extremely large contracts with a good chance of execution.

 **Prime Exclusive Contracts** are those offered either to the Membership at large, in which case Guild members may bid percentage points to the Guild itself for exclusive rights or First Issue Contracts that are offered with a time limit option to specific Guild members on a request basis. In order for the Guild to agree to broker such Primes, the actually exclusivity clause must have a time limit of not more that one year and one month.

 **Prime contracts** can be extended by Guild members holding them at a cost of 10 percent of the total worth of the contract.

Guild members are required to check in with their local Guild Hall while in the execution of a contract. Failure to do so can result in fines or imprisonment or both.

Civilians who interfere in a Guild member's legally executed contract and as a result suffer loss of goods, injury or death, may file a claim with the local Guild Chapter for recompense. The Guild prides itself on its excellent customer relations division.

Should a Guild held contract be fulfilled by local law enforcement while in the execution of other duties, the government or agency that issued the contract is still required to pay the Guild the full value of the contract. All optioned percentage points will be paid to Members just as if a Guild member had fulfilled the contract. If the contract is not optioned, the Guild retains all fees.

Contracts that end in termination of the target, rather than capture, (unless otherwise specified) are paid at 10% of the contract.

Contracts issued with a Dead or Alive clause, will be paid at the set rate of the contract issuer. Such contracts ware usually of lesser value and the issuing agency must provide proper transcript and summary execution notices as provided by the jurisdiction of issuance. No options may be purchased on such contracts due to their low value.

 **Special Circumstances for Security Installations** (Security Levels At Maximum - SLAM's):  
The independent prison systems contact to the Mercenary Guild under special circumstances. Recovery of Maximum Security Prisoners who escape cannot be optioned. Fees are paid directly to the Guild Member on delivery. The Guild Member, in return, is required to pay 5% of the fees paid to the Guild for brokerage costs.

 **Benefits of Guild Membership**  
Guild membership provides many services and benefits including but not limited to a full time around the clock administrative staff, health benefits, legal counsel, bonded legal indemnity, death benefits (optional), a credit union, free-to-member accommodations on most member worlds or discounted rates where the Actual Guild Hall cannot provide accommodation, and burial services as needed based on member preferences and /or planetary customs of birth. Training and continuing education are available for a small fee and the Guild itself offers a variety of lectures, expert demonstration, weapons training and promotion throughout the year on nearly all Guild Affiliated worlds. In the case of contract execution disputes, the Guild will provide, at no cost, mediation between members. Should members prefer to settle such matters themselves, burial services will be provided.  
If you are interested in becoming a Guild Member, please contact your local Mercenary Guild Hall.

MdR 01/11/2005

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes for  
> The Fast and The Furyan  
> by Maygra  
> an improbable crossover
> 
> [Notes & Acknowledgments]
> 
> Let's face it, this started out being all about hot men having hot sex: Darkly dangerous conscienceless man meets risk taking angel-faced hunter with a guilt complex, and true love (and kinky sex) ensue. It's pretty standard PWP fare.
> 
> But, the allure of the Riddick universe was too strong for me to resist and what started as a romp through the woods and some rough sex, suddenly grew legs and evolved into a full blown plot-twisting and twisted-plot mini epic.
> 
> I am weak. Give me an interesting universe and interesting characters and I can't help myself.
> 
> Luckily for all of you, I had help though. First and foremost, thanks go to Dawn who provided me with copious notes from the Chronicles of Riddick DVD that covered everything from interesting asides to pertinent conversations as well as what notes were gathered for both the DVD and the novelization about the history of the Necromongers. Yeah, I could have made it all up, but I didn't have to, and it's highly likely that because of Dawn's diligence you got a story that actually *works* in the RiddickVerse, even if it veers wildly from anything David Twohy, Vin Diesel, Jim and Ken Wheat or anyone else involved in the actual production ever envisioned. I won't tell them if you won't.
> 
> Also many thanks to the people on or off my LiveJournal Friend's list who gave me a ton of encouragement, kudos, threatened, bribed, cajoled and pretty much acted as both a cheering section and much needed mirrors to bounce the whole thing off of, because honestly, it is *improbable* and highly suspect and keeping it recognizable was actually really important to me. From folks I've known for a long time like Bone, KadyMae and Meghan to folks I met through TFaTF and who popped in from AoVD, my thanks, ladies and gents. It was a whole helluva lot more fun with you than it would have been writing it on my own and I'd probably have talked myself out of it if I had been doing it alone. So, if you enjoyed it, consider yourselves co-creators, 'cause you were.
> 
> I do feel that I need to acknowledge the fact that I took enormous license with the Riddickverse: from philosophy to secondary characters, to the actual metaphysical underpinning of the whole concept of Necromongers and the UnderVerse, to the actual timeline of events outlined in the film. Some of it warranted the occasional "huh?" like the massive fields of graves…I mean, really, who would have buried them? Not the Necromongers. Also, I stretched the actual length of life of available to the Necromongers, based on a single line in the reference notes Dawn provided, making them more like immortals or vampires than really fanatical people with normal lifespans (deathspans?).
> 
> Also, I maligned and distorted the Elementals shamelessly. I'm sure they are very nice and would never do such a thing.
> 
> At any rate, should anyone else want to riff off this, feel free. I only ask for credit…but it's not like I'd hunt you down or anything.
> 
> And lastly, but not leastly, many, many thanks to Meghan Black both for her constant encouragement, for patting my head, and for producing the lovely title art. We've been friends for a few years now, but truly, her generosity and her creativity continue to inspire me.
> 
> If you have questions or comments, you can contact me at maygra [@] bellsouth [dot] net


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